had everything arranged for. I don't know what's got
into him lately."

Back at the hotel Lorry was leaning against the veranda rail, talking to
Mrs. Weston. "I reckon it will be kind of tame for you, ma'am. I was
wondering, now, if you would let me look over that machine. I've helped
fix 'em up lots of times."

"Why, I don't know. It wouldn't do any harm to look, would it?"

"I guess not."

Mrs. Weston gazed at Lorry curiously. He had smiled, and he resembled
Waring so closely that Mrs. Weston remarked it aloud.

Lorry flushed. "I think Mr. Waring is a right good-lookin' man, don't
you?"

Mrs. Weston laughed. "Yes, I do."

"Yes, ma'am. But honest, Mrs. Weston, I never did see a finer-lookin'
girl than your girl. I seen plenty of magazine pictures like her. I'd
feel some proud if I was her mother."

The morning was not so dull, after all. Mrs. Weston was not used to such
frankness, but she was not displeased. "I see you have on your working
clothes. If you really think you can repair the car--"

"I got nothin' else to do. The sun is gettin' round to the front. If you
would like to sit in the car and watch, I would look her over; there, in
the shade."

"I'll get a hat," said Mrs. Weston, rising.

"Your hair is right pretty without a hat. And besides you would be in
the shade of the top."

It had been some time since any one had complimented Mrs. Weston about
her hair, and especially a man young enough to be her son. What was the
cowboy going to say next?

Mrs. Weston stepped into the car, which was parked on the south side of
the building. Lorry, whistling blithely, searched until he found a
wrench in one of the forward-door pockets. He disappeared beneath the
car. Mrs. Weston could hear him tinkering at something. She leaned back,
breathing deep of the clean, thin air. She could not recall having felt
so thoroughly content and keenly alive at the same time. She had no
desire to say or do anything.

Presently Lorry appeared, his face grimy and his hands streaked with
oil. "Nothin' busted," he reported cheerfully. "We got a car over to
the ranch. She's been busted a-plenty. I fixed her up more times than I
can remember. Cars is like horses ma'am; no two just alike, but kind of
generally the same. The steering-knuckle ain't broke. It's the left axle
that's sprung. That won't take long to straighten."

Mrs. Weston smiled. Lorry thought she was actually pretty. She saw this
in his eyes, and flushed sligh