"In the oats box," said Kent laconically. He turned to the girl. "I
couldn't get the sidesaddle," he explained apologetically. "I looked where
Mrs. Hawley said it was, but I couldn't find it--and I didn't have much
time. You'll have to ride a stock saddle."

Valeria drew back a step. "You mean--a man's saddle?" Her voice was
carefully polite.

"Why, yes." And he added: "The horse is dead gentle--and a sidesaddle's no
good, anyhow. You'll like this better." He spoke, as was evident, purely
from a man's viewpoint.

That viewpoint Mrs. Fleetwood refused to share. "Oh, I couldn't ride a
man's saddle," she protested, still politely, and one could imagine how her
lips were pursed. "Indeed, I'm not sure that I care to leave town at all."
To her the declaration did not seem unreasonable or abrupt but she felt
that Kent was very much shocked. She saw him turn his head and look back
toward the town, as if he half expected a pursuit.

"I don't reckon the oats box will hold Fred very long," he observed
meditatively. He added reminiscently to Manley: "I had a deuce of a time
getting the cover down and fastened."

"I'm very sorry," said Valeria, with sweet dignity, "that you gave yourself
so much trouble--"

"I'm kinda sorry myself," Kent agreed mildly, and Valeria blushed hotly,
and was glad he could not see.

"Come, Val--you can ride this saddle, all right. All the girls out here--"