lap and demurely gave him his chance.

"Can you tell me how far it is to the Lazy D ranch?"

"Seventy-two miles as the crow flies, ma'am."

"Thank you."

The conversation threatened to die before it was well born.
Desperately McWilliams tried to think of something to say to keep
it alive without being too bold.

"If y'u were thinking of traveling out that way I could give y'u
a lift. I just came in to get another lady--an old lady that has
just come to this country."

"Thank you, but I'm expecting a conveyance to meet me here. You
didn't happen to pass one on the way, I suppose?"

"No, I didn't. What ranch were y'u going to, ma'am?

"Miss Messiter's--the Lazy D."

A suspicion began to peretrate the foreman's brain. "Y'u ain't
Miss Darling?"

"What makes you so sure I'm not?" she asked, tilting her dimpled
chin toward him aggressively.

"Y'u're too young," he protested, helplessly.