"Men are such fools!" she muttered angrily. "I'll only stay a little
while, of course, but I'm going to that dance if it is the last thing I
ever do--just to show him that--that--" her words trailed into silence
without expressing just what it was she intended to show him.

As the minutes passed the girl's eyes glowed with a spark of hope.
"Maybe," she muttered, "maybe Mr. Purdy has forgotten, or--" the
sentence broke off shortly. Across the flat a rider was approaching
and beside him trotted a lead-horse upon whose back was an empty
saddle. For just an instant she hesitated, then rose from her seat and
walked boldly to the door of the coach.

"Good evenin', mom," the cowboy smiled as he dismounted to assist her
from the steps of the coach.

"Good evening," returned the girl. "But, you needn't to have gone to
the trouble of bringing a horse just to ride that little way."

"'Twasn't no trouble, mom, an' he's woman broke. I figured yeh
wouldn't have no ridin' outfit along so I loant a sideways saddle offen
a friend of mine which his gal usta use before she learnt to ride
straddle. The horse is hern, too, an' gentle as a dog. Here I'll give
yeh a h'ist." The lead-horse nickered softly, and reaching up, the
girl stroked his velvet nose.

"He's woman broke," repeated the cowboy, and as Alice looked up her
eyes strayed past him to the window of the coach where they met
Endicott's steady gaze.