she
hoped he brought his chaps and spurs along, for she had told Lola so
much about him, and she wanted Lola to see him in his Wild West
clothes.

All this should have pleased Andy very much. She had not grown cold,
and her eyes were quite as teasing and her smiles as luring as before.
She did not even lay personal claim to Freddie, that he should be
jealous. When she spoke of Freddie, his name was linked with Lola
Parsons, and Andy could not glean that she had ever gone anywhere
alone with him. She had seemed anxious that he should enjoy his
vacation to the limit, and had mentioned three or four places that he
must surely see, and informed him three times that she was "off" at
five every evening, and could show him around.

They had dined together at a cafe, and had gone back to the Casino for
the band concert, and they had not been interrupted by meeting Lola
Parsons and Freddie, and she had given him a very cordial good-night
when they parted on the steps of her boarding house at eleven.

So there was absolutely no reason for the mood Andy was in when he
accepted his key from the hotel clerk and went up to his room. For a
man who has traveled more than a thousand miles in search of the girl
he had dreamed of o'nights, and who had found her and had been
properly welcomed, he was distinctly gloomy. He sat down by the open
window and smoked four cigarettes, said "Damn Freddy!" three times and
with added emphasis each time, though he knew very well that Freddie
had nothing to do with it, and then went to bed.

In the morning he felt better, and went out by himself to the cliffs
where they had been before, and sat down on a hummock covered with
short grass, and watched the great unrest of the ocean, and wondered
where the Flying U wagons would be camping, that night. Somehow, the
wide reach of water reminded him of the prairie; the rolling billows
were like many, many cattle milling restlessly in a vast herd and
tossing white heads and horns upward. Below him, the pounding surf was
to him the bellowing of a thirsty herd corralled.

"This is sure all right," he approved, rousing a little. "It's almost
as good as sitting up on a pinnacle and looking out over the range. If
I had a good hoss, and my riding outfit, and could get out there and
go to work cutting-out them white-caps and hazing 'em up here on a
run, it wouldn't be so poor. By gracious, this is worth the trip, all
right." It never occurred to Andy that there