"I'm no younger than you are," came her quick, indignant retort.

Thus boldly accused of his youth, the foreman blushed. "I didn't
mean that. Miss Messiter said she was an old lady--"

"You needn't tell fibs about it. She couldn't have said anything
of the kind. Who are you, anyhow?" the girl demanded, with
spirit.

"I'm the foreman of the Lazy D, come to get Miss Darling. My name
is McWilliams--Jim McWilliams."

"I don't need your first name, Mr. McWilliams," she assured him,
sweetly. "And will you please tell me why you have kept me
waiting here more than thirty hours?"

"Miss Messiter didn't get your letter in time. Y'u see, we don't
get mail every day at the Lazy D," he explained, the while he
hopefully wondered just when she was going to need his last name.

"I don't see why you don't go after your mail every day at least,
especially when Miss Messiter was expecting me. To leave me
waiting here thirty hours--I'll not stand it. When does the next
train leave for Detroit?" she asked, imperiously.

The situation seemed to call for diplomacy, and Jim McWilliams
moved to a nearer chair. "I'm right sorry it happened, ma'am, and
I'll bet Miss Messiter is, too. Y'u see, we been awful busy one
way and 'nother, and I plumb neglected to send one of the boys to