"You haven't met him yet but you want to. Is that it?"

"That's it."

"Will you have another egg?"

Flandrau laughed. "No, thanks. Staying up at Stone's, is he?"

"How should I know who's staying at Stone's?"

It was quite plain she did not intend to tell anything that would hurt
young Cullison.

"Oh, well, it doesn't matter. I ain't lost him any to speak of," the young
man drawled.

"Are you expecting to stop in the hills long--or just visiting?"

"Yes," Curly answered, with his most innocent blank wall look.

"Yes which?"

"Why, whichever you like, Miss London. What's worrying you? If you'll ask
me plain out I'll know how to answer you."

"So you know my name?"

"Anything strange about that? The Bar 99 is the London brand. I saw your
calves in the corral with their flanks still sore. Naturally I assume the
young lady I meet here is Miss Laura London."

She defended her suspicions. "Folks come up here with their mysterious
questions. A person would think nobody lived on Dead Cow but outlaws and
such, to hear some of you valley people tell it."

"There's nothing mysterious about me and my questions. I'm just a
lunkheaded cowpuncher out of a job. What did you think I was?"

"What do you want with Sam Cullison? Are you friendly to him? Or aren't
you?"

"Ladies first. Are _you_ friendly to him? Or aren't you?"

Curly smiled gaily across the table at her. A faint echo of his pleasantry
began to dimple the corners of her mouth. It lit her eyes and spread from
them till the prettiest face on the creek wrinkled with mirth. Both of
them relaxed to peals of laughter, and neither of them quite knew the
cause of their hilarity.

"Oh, you!" she reproved when she had sufficiently recovered.

"So you thought I was a detective or a deputy sheriff. That's certainly
funny."

"For all I know yet you may be one."

"I never did see anyone with a disposition so dark-complected as yours. If
you won't put them suspicions to sleep I'll have to table my cards." From
his pocket he drew a copy of the Saguache Sentinel and showed her a marked
story. "Maybe that will explain what I'm doing up on Dead Cow."

This was what Laura London read:

From Mesa comes the news of another case of bold and flagrant
rustling. On Friday night a bunch of horses belonging to the Bar
Double M were rounded up and driven across the mountains to this
city. The stolen animals were sold here this morning, after which the
buyers set