her head.

"It's my job. I'll have my work cut out for me, I expect, but nobody
else can share it. I've got to play a lone hand, but when it's over,
I--I don't know. I haven't made any plans beyond that."

"But surely you don't intend to remain here in Limasito all your life?"

"Why not?" She shot a swift glance at him. "It was good enough for
Dad."

"But not for you. That's the point. I--I had a talk with your father
just before he died, and he wants you to go away; to travel and study
and mingle with people of your own kind."

"Aren't these my kind?" Hot loyalty blazed in her tone. "They're all
the friends I have in the world, the folks right here in Limasito, and
all I want! What would I do among a lot of city people; stuck-up snobs
who don't know I'm alive? I wouldn't even know how to talk to them, or
what fork to eat with, and what's more, I wouldn't care. Why, I
haven't even got a second name! 'Gentleman Geoff's Billie' would look
well in the society papers, wouldn't it? No, thanks! I'll stick to
the folks I know and--and care for!"

"But they're not all snobs, Billie, just because some of their ways are
different from yours. I have a sister who can play a stiff game of
poker and ride as well as you. Edna spends most of her time out in the
open, and nothing feazes her. You would get on beautifully with her
and I thought perhaps you would let me take you to her, sometime."

Billie was silent. She was staring straight ahead of her, into the
vista above her pinto's ears, and had Thode looked at her he would have
seen a quick flush mantle her face, but he was occupied by his own
problem.

"You are different, you know, from the people about here; or anywhere
else for that matter, Billie. I--I've never met a girl like you, so
brave and true and wonderful! I want to take you away from all this
and show you how different the world can be. What does it matter about
your name? You are you, and that's all that counts. Everyone will
love you, they couldn't help it!----" He rushed on heedlessly,
oblivious to any ulterior construction which might be put upon his
words, intent only on assuring her of her welcome in the place which
her father had said was her rightful one, and in convincing her of his
disinterested friendship.

"I told your father that if you were willing I would gladly take you to
my sister, and we would all do our best to make you happy." He
reddened, in his turn. "Please,