"Then Kyle took me into his confidence. I never was less
astonished in my whole life, and I didn't tell him so. 'Well, what
are you going to do about it?' says I.

"He kind of groaned and shook his head. 'I dunno,' says he. 'Do
you think she likes me, Red?' I felt like saying, 'Well, if you
ain't got all the traits but the long ears, I miss my guess,' but I
made allowances, and says I, 'Well, about that, I don't think I
ought to say anything; still, if I had only one eye left I could
see plain that her education's finished. She don't want any more
college, that girl don't.'

"'Think not?' says he, bracing up. And then, by-and-by, they went
out to ride, for Jonesy was good to the girl, I'll say that for
him. He was willing to do anything for her in reason, according to
his views. But Kyle wasn't in them views; he was out of the
picture as far as husbands went.

"They came back at sunset, when the whole world was glowing red the
same as they were. I reached for the field glasses and took a
squint at them. There was no harm in that, for they were
well-behaved young folks. One look at their faces was enough.
There were three of us in the bull-pen--Bob, and Wind-River Smith,
and myself. We'd brought up a herd of calves from Nanley's ranch,
and we were taking it easy. 'Boys,' says I, under my breath,
'they've made the riffle.'

"'No!' says they, and then everybody had to take a pull at the
glasses.