"Lahoma," he said one day, "there's a settler over yonder in the
mountains across the south plain. How'd you like to pay him a
visit?"

"I don't want anybody but you," said Lahoma promptly.

Willock stood on one leg, rubbing the other meditatively with his
delighted foot. Not the quiver of a muscle, however, revealed the
fact that her words had flooded his heart with sunshine. "Well,
honey, that's in reason. But I've got to take you with me after
books and winter supplies, and I don't like the idea of traveling
alone. It come to me that I might get Mr. Settler to go, too. Time
was not so long ago when Injun bands was coming and going, and
although old Greer is beginning to be sprinkled up with settlers,
here and there, I can't get over the feel of the old times. They
ain't no sensation as sticks by a man when he's come to be wedged
in between forty-five and fifty, as the feel of the old times."

"Well," said Lahoma earnestly, "I wish you'd leave me here when you
go after them books. I don't want to be with no strangers, I want
to just squat right here and bear myself company."

"That's in reason. But, honey, while you might be safe enough
whilst bearing the same, I would be plumb crazy worrying about you.
I might not have good cause for worrying, but worrying--it ain't no
bird that spreads its wings and goes north when cold weather comes;
worrying--it's independent of causes and seasons."

"If you have got to be stayed with to keep you from worrying, they