es
his luck--the money's he's made and the name he's won. He's high up on one
of our biggest railroads, too, since he gave up law because he'd no time
to follow it; and he's not much over forty now. That's California, Mrs.
May. That's typical. Falconer's as different from a rough fellow like me,
as--as I hope I'm different from Sealman."

"You're a loyal friend," Angela said, admiring the fire in his eyes and
the glow on his face as she would have admired an impressionist sketch for
a portrait by Sargent. "Only this man ought to be a fresco," she told
herself as she followed out the picture-simile. "He's too big and spirited
and unconventional to be put into a frame."

"Oh, I'm not a personal friend of Falconer's," Nick hastened to explain.
"Wish I were! I've met him when he's been to the Gaylor ranch--the ranch I
want you to visit. But I expect he'd hardly remember me. And now you see
that I'm not typical, maybe you'll think there's no place for me on your
map. But I have my uses. I'm warranted sure and sound. And wouldn't I just
be ready to die tryin', if you'd let me, to give you the time of your life
in California?"

"I've always heard that Californian men are chivalrous and kind."

"Oh, kind! That's a funny word."

"And these plans you draw for me are--are the sort of thing to make a
woman feel glad there are men in the world willing to take so much
trouble----"

"They're the sort of thing to make a man glad there are women--or better
still, a woman--to work for," he amended, so good to look at in his
enthusiasm, that Angela's eyes would not be banished to the _suede_ bag or
to the flowers on the table--Nick's flowers.

"But," she went on, "but----"

"Don't say that word to-day," Nick begged. "Whatever you decide afterward,
let me take you up to Rubidoux and on to Redlands? Make up your mind about
the rest when you've seen Mr. Morehouse's letter."

"Very well," she said. "Just for to-day, the 'make-believe' shall come
true."

Nick turned away his face lest it should betray him.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "Well, then, I reckon it's time I went to
round up Billy. And we'll hit the breeze for Rubidoux and Redlands."

They saw the park and the millionaires' houses and the orange-packing,
passing on the way picturesque little towns, with Indian and Mexican
names, which charmed the eyes and ears of Angela. And always the air was
sweet with scent of orange-blossoms, roses, and alfalfa, the life of the
c