loons, a half-dozen less
reputable places of entertainment, a steepleless board church, a
schoolhouse, also of boards, a hotel, a post office, a feed stable,
fifty or more board shacks of miners, and a few flimsy buildings at the
mouths of shafts. It was nearly noon when the three drew up before the
hotel.

"Will you dine with us in an hour?" asked Endicott.

The Texan nodded. "Thanks," he said, formally, "I'll be here." And as
the two disappeared through the door, he gathered up the reins, crossed
to the feed barn where he turned the animals over to the proprietor,
and passing on to the rear, proceeded to take a bath in the watering
trough.

Punctually on the minute he entered the hotel. The meal was a solemn
affair, almost as silent as the ride from the river. Several attempts
at conversation fell flat, and the effort was abandoned. At no time,
however, did the Texan appear embarrassed, and Alice noted that he
handled his knife and fork with the ease of early training.

At the conclusion he arose, abruptly: "I thank you. Will you excuse
me, now?"

Alice nodded, and both watched as he crossed the room, his spurs
trailing noisily upon the wooden floor.

"Poor devil," said Endicott, "this has hit him pretty hard."

The girl swallowed the rising lump in her throat: "Oh, why can't he
meet some nice girl, and----"

"Women--his kind--are mighty scarce out here, I imagine."

The girl placed her elbows upon the table, rested her chin upon her
knuckles, and glanced eagerly into Endicott's face:

"Win, you've just got to buy a ranch," she announced, the words fairly
tumbling over each other in her excitement. "Then we can come out here
part of the time and live, and we can invite a lot of girls out for the
summer--I just know oodles of nice girls--and Tex can manage the ranch,
and----"

"Match-making already!" laughed Endicott. "Why buy a ranch? Why not
move into Wolf River, or Timber City, and start a regular matrimonial
agency--satisfaction guaranteed, or your money back. It would be more
prac----"

"Winthrop Adams Endicott!"

"Oh, I forgot! I'm not practical. I'm romantic, and red-blooded,
and--" they had the little dining-room to themselves; he rose swiftly
from his chair and, crossing to her side, stooped and kissed her, not
once, but twice, and thrice,--"I'm glad of it! And that reminds me, I
have a couple of errands to attend to, so you will have to manage to
worry along without me for fift