"You walked all the way from the major's here?" he continued, without
taking his eyes from her face.

"Yes," she answered with an affectation of carelessness she had not
shown to Bent. "But I started very early, it was cool and pleasant, and
didn't seem far."

"I'll put you down in San Jose inside the hour. You shall have my horse
and trotting sulky, and I'll drive you myself. Will that do?"

She looked at him wonderingly. She had not forgotten his previous
restraint and gravity, but now his face seemed to have relaxed with some
humorous satisfaction. She felt herself coloring slightly, but whether
with shame or relief she could not tell.

"I shall be so much obliged to you," she replied hesitatingly, "and so
will my father, I know."

"I reckon," said the man with the same look of amused conjecture; then,
with a quick, assuring nod, he turned away, and dived into the wheat
again.

"You're all right now, Miss Mallory," said Bent, complacently. "Dawson
will fix it. He's got a good horse, and he's a good driver, too." He
paused, and then added pleasantly, "I suppose they're all well up at the
house?"

It was so evident that his remark carried no personal meaning to herself
that she was obliged to answer carelessly, "Oh, yes."