u next to the
etiquette wrinkles where you are shy."

A shadow fell on the piquant, eager face beside him. "Do you think she
will love me?"

"I don't think. I know. She can't help it."

"Because she is my mother? Oh, I hope that is true."

"No, not only because she is your mother."

She decided to ask for no more reasons. Henderson, pleased at the wide
stretch of plain as only one who had missed the open air for many years
could be, was on the observation platform in the rear of the car, one
glance at his empty seat showed her. There was no safety for her shyness
in the presence of that proverbial three which makes a crowd, and she
began to feel her heart again in panic as once before. She took at once
the opening she had given.

"I do need a mother so much, after growing up like Topsy all these
years. And mine is the dearest woman in the world. I fell in love with
her before, and I did not know who she was when I was at he ranch."

"I'll agree to the second dearest in the world, but I reckon you shoot
too high when you say the plumb dearest."

"She is. We'll quarrel if you don't agree," trying desperately to divert
him from the topic she knew he meant to pursue. For in the past two
days he had been so busy helping O'Halloran that he had not even had a
glimpse of her. As a consequence of which each felt half-dubious of the
other's love, and Frances felt wholly shy about expressing her own or
even listening to his.

"Well, we're due for a quarrel, I reckon. But we'll postpone it till we
got more time to give it." He drew a watch from his pocket and glanced at
it "In less than fifteen minutes Mike and our two friends who are making
their getaway will come in that door Henderson just went out of. That
means we won't get a chance to be alone together, for about two days.
I've got something to say to you, Curly Haid, that won't keep that long
with out running my temperature clear up. So I'm allowing to say it
right now immediate. No, you don't need to turn them brown appealers on
me. It won't do a mite of good. It's Bucky to the bat and he's bound to
make a hit or strike out."

"I think I hear Mr. Henderson coming," murmured Frances, for lack of
something more effective to say.

"Not him. He's hogtied to the scenery long enough to do my business.
Now, it won't take me long if I get off right foot first. You read my
letter, you said?"

"Which letter?" She was examining attentively the fringe of the sash she
wo