I am not thinking so much even of
him as I am of you. I know that I am a good deal older than you, as
people count years, but I can truly say that my heart is young, and
I think that I will be a husky chap for a good long time to come.
You know I've had you nearly all your life, Sylvia, and we have the
advantage of knowing each other. You are on to all my curves--that
is, you don't have to get married to me to learn my failings.

"I guess I haven't the polish that those Eastern fellows put on, or
that is put on them, but out here in the mountains I amount to
somebody--you must let me brag a little, Sylvia--and if a man
doesn't bow pretty low to Mrs. William Plummer, I'll have to get
out my old six-shooter--I haven't carried one now for ten
years--and shoot all the hair off the top of his head."

"He thinks he's joking, but I believe he would do it. Dear old daddy!"
murmured Sylvia.

"I think you ought to become Mrs. Plummer now, Sylvia, but I guess
I'm willing to wait until this campaign is over. For one ought to
be willing to wait, if by waiting he can get such a good thing.
Still, I hate to think of you away off there in the East, so many
thousands of miles away from me, where there are no friendly old
mountains to look down on you and watch over you, and I'm glad that
my little girl is coming West again soon. I'll try to get down part
of the way, say to Nebraska or Kansas, to meet you. I feel safer
when I have you close by; then, if any of those young Eastern
fellows should try to kidnap you and run away with you, my old
six-shooter might have a word to say."

The sudden flush rose to her cheeks at this new joke, but she murmured
nothing. The rest of the letter was about people whom they knew in Boise
and elsewhere in Idaho, and it closed:

"Don't think I'm growing gushing at my age, Sylvia, but Idaho, fine
as she is, isn't near complete without you, and this is why I want
you back in it just as soon as you can come.
Yours, lovingly,
"WILLIAM PLUMMER."

She folded the letter carefully and put it back in the envelope. Then
she sat for a long time, and her look was one of mingled tenderness and
sadness. Her mind, too, ran back into the past, and she had a dim vision
of the little child, who