she said, "but I reckon they didn't know I was comin' up so soon."

Hemmingway's distrust returned a little at this obvious suggestion that
he was only a substitute for their general gallantry, but he smiled and
said somewhat bluntly, "I don't suppose you lack for admirers here."

The girl, however, took him literally. "Lordy, no! Me and Mamie Robinson
are the only girls for fifteen miles along the creek. ADMIRIN'! I call
it jest PESTERIN' sometimes! I reckon I'll hev to keep a dog!"

Hemmingway shivered. Yes, she was not only conscious, but spoilt
already. He pictured to himself the uncouth gallantries of the
settlement, the provincial badinage, the feeble rivalries of the young
men whom he had seen at the general store. Undoubtedly this was what she
was expecting in HIM!

"Well," she said, turning from the fire she had kindled, "while I'm
settin' the table, tell me what's a-doin' in Sacramento! I reckon you've
got heaps of lady friends thar,--I'm told there's lots of fashions just
from the States."

"I'm afraid I don't know enough of them to interest you," he said dryly.

"Go on and talk," she replied. "Why, when Tom Flynn kem back from
Sacramento, and he warn't thar more nor a week, he jest slung yarns
about his doin's thar to last the hull rainy season."

Half amused and half annoyed, Hemmingway seated himself on the little
platform beside the open door, and began a conscientious description of
the progress of Sacramento, its new buildings, hotels, and theatres,
as it had struck him on his last visit. For a while he was somewhat
entertained by the girl's vivacity and eager questioning, but presently
it began to pall. He continued, however, with a grim sense of duty, and
partly as a reason for watching her in her household duties. Certainly
she was graceful! Her tall, lithe, but beautifully moulded figure,
even in its characteristic southwestern indolence, fell into poses as
picturesque as they were unconscious. She lifted the big molasses-can
from its shelf on the rafters with the attitude of a Greek water-bearer.
She upheaved the heavy flour-sack to the same secure shelf with the
upraised palms of an Egyptian caryatid. Suddenly she interrupted
Hemmingway's perfunctory talk with a hearty laugh. He started, looked
up from his seat on the platform, and saw that she was standing over him
and regarding him with a kind of mischievous pity.

"Look here," she said, "I reckon that'll do! You kin pull up short! I
ki