er. It gave a
new sort of assurance to her theory that she was "grown up"; it added
to her importance in her own eyes.

"Why, yes," said Florrie.

"I am going away," he continued gravely. "For just how long I don't
know. A week, perhaps a month, maybe longer. It is a business matter
of considerable importance, Florence. Nor is it entirely without
danger. It will take me down below the border, and an American in
Mexico right now takes his life entirely into his own hands. You know
that, don't you?"

"Then why do you go?"

Galloway smiled down at her.

"If I held back every time a danger-signal was thrown out," he said
lightly, "I wouldn't travel very far. Oh, I'll come back all right; a
man may go through fire itself and return if he has the incentive which
I have." His tone altered subtly. Florrie started.

"But before I go," went on Galloway, "I am going to tell you something
which I think you know already. You do, don't you, Florence?"

She would not have been Florrie at all, but some very different,
unromantic, and unimaginative creature, had she failed of
comprehension. Jim Galloway was actually making love to her!

"What do you mean, Mr. Galloway?" she managed to stammer.

"I mean that what I am telling you is for your ears alone. I am
placing a confidence in you, the greatest confidence a man can place in
a girl. Or in a woman, Florence. I am trusting that what I say will
remain just between you and me for the present. . . . When I come back
I will be no longer just Jim Galloway of the Casa Blanca, but Galloway
of one of the biggest grants in Mexico, with mile after mile of fertile
lands, with a small army of servants, vaqueros, and retainers, a sort
of ruler of my own State! It sounds like a fairy-tale, Florence, but
it is the sober truth made possible by conditions below the border. My
estates will run down to the blue water of the Gulf; I shall have my
own fleet of ocean-going yachts; there is a port upon my own land.
There will be a home overlooking the sea like a king's palace. Will
you think of all that while I am gone? Will you think of me a little,
too? Will you remember that my little kingdom is crying out for its
queen? . . . No; I am not asking you to answer me now. I am just
asking that you hold this as our secret until I come back. Until I
come back for you! . . . I shall stand here until you reach your
home," he broke off suddenly. "Good night, my dear."

"Good