calla lily. Marjie knew how to dress.
To-day, shaded by the buggy-top, in her dainty light blue lawn, with the
soft pink of her cheeks and her clear white brow and throat, she was a
most delicious thing to look upon in that hot summer street. Poor Lettie
suffered by contrast. Her cheeks were blazing, and her hair, wet with
perspiration, was adorned with a bow of bright purple ribbon tied
butterfly-fashion, and fastened on with a pin set with flashing
brilliants.

"Oh, Uncle Cam," Marjie cried, blushing like the pink rambler roses
climbing the tavern veranda, "Phil's just going out to look at some land
for his father. It's up the river somewhere and I'm going to hold the
ponies while he looks."

"Well, he'd ort to have somebody holdin' 'em fur him. I'll bet ye I'd
want a hostler if I had the lookin' to do. Land's a mighty small thing
an' hard to look at, sometimes; 'specially when a feller's head's in the
clouds an' he's walkin' on air. Goin' northwest? Look out, they's a
ha'nted house up there. But, by hen, I'd never see a ha'nt long's I had
somethin' better to look at."

I saw Lettie turn quickly and disappear around the corner. My father was
busy, so I sat in the office window and whistled and waited, watching
the ponies switch lazily at the flies.

When we were clear of town, and the open plain swept by the summer
breezes gave freedom from the heat, Marjie asked:

"Where is Lettie Conlow going on such a hot afternoon?"

"Nowhere, is she? She was talking to you at the courthouse."

"But she rushed away while Uncle Cam was joking, and I saw her cross the
alley back of the courthouse on Tell's pony, and in a minute she was
just flying up toward Cliff Street. She doesn't ride very well. I
thought she was afraid of that pony. But she was making it go sailing
out toward the bluff above town."

"Well, let her go, Marjie. She always wears on my nerves."

"Phil, she likes you, I know. Everybody knows."

"Well, I know and everybody knows that I never give her reason to. I
wish she would listen to Tell. I thought when I first came home they
were engaged."

"Before he went up to Wyandotte to work they were--he said so, anyhow."

Then we forgot Lettie. She wasn't necessary to us that day, for there
were only two in our world.

[Illustration: "Baronet, I think we are marching straight into Hell's
jaws"]

Out on the prairie trail a mile or more is the point where the bridle
path leading to the river turns northwes