the other.
"Was you addressin' me, Miss?" he asked, ecstatically.
"Not then. I was speaking to my father. He just left the room.... You--sort of took me by surprise."
"Shore, you tuk my wind."
"Do you live here?" asked Janey, with interest. This trading post might not turn out so badly after all.
"Shore do," replied the young man, grinning.
"Are you Mrs. Bennet's son?"
"Naw. Jest a plain no-good cowboy."
"My very first cowboy!" murmured Janey. "Aw, Miss! I'm shore honored. I'll be yore yore first anythin'. Ain't you the Endicott girl we're expectin'?"
"Yes, I'm Janey Endicott."
"An' I'm Mohave. The boys call me that after the Mohave Desert which ain't got no beginnin' or end."
As Janey broke into laughter another young man entered, also carrying a grip in each hand. He was overdressed, like a motion-picture cowboy, and he had a swarthy, dark face. He gave Janey a warm smile.
"Cowboy, reckon you can put them bags down an' get back for more," blandly said Mohave.
"Buenas dias, Senorita," greeted this one, dropping the bags and sweeping the floor with his sombrero. Janey was quick to see that Mohave suddenly remembered to remove his own wide headgear.
"Same to you," replied Janey, smiling as teasingly as possible.
"Miss Endicott, this here's Diego," said Mohave, apologetically. "He's a Mexican. He seen a Western movie once an' ain't never got over it. He's been dressed up all day waitin' for you."
"I'm tremendously flattered," returned Janey.
"Mees, thees are your bags I carry. I peeck them ut weeth your name on."
"Now there, Buffalo Bill, you mustn't flatter me any more," replied Janey, coquettishly.
"Oh, Mees! Senor Buffalo Beel you call me. I have seen heem in the movies."
Here he drew two guns with an exaggerated motion-picture-drama style. "A-ha! Veelian! Een my power at las'! A-ha! Your time ees come. I keel you!"
He brandished both guns in Janey's face. In alarm she slipped off the window seat to dodge behind a table.
"Diego, you locoed cowpuncher, get on the job," ordered Mohave, forcibly. "Ray is comin'."
Diego evidently had respect for Mohave. Hurriedly sheathing his guns, and picking up his sombrero he recovered the two valises. Meanwhile Janey emerged from behind the table.
"Mees, Diego will act for you again," he announced grandly.
"Ye-es. Thanks. But please make it someplace where I can dodge," replied Janey.
Diego left the room, and Mohave, taking up his load, turned to Janey.
"Miss Endicott, don't trust Diego, or any of these other hombres. An' perticular, don't ride their horses. You'll shore get throwed an' mebbe killed. But my pet horse is shore gentle. I'll take you ridin' tomorrow."
"I'd love to go with you," returned Janey.
Then Mohave made swift tracks after Diego, just in time to escape being seen by a third cowboy, who entered from outside, carrying a trunk as if it had been a feather. He set it down. He was bareheaded, a blond young man, not bad looking, in size alone guaranteed to command respect. And his costume struck a balance between that of Diego and Mohave.
Janey gazed at him and exclaimed, "Well! Tarzan in cowboy boots, no less."
Ray stared, then walked in a circle to see whom she meant. But as there was no other man present he seemed to divine the truth, and approached her straightaway.
"Wal, for Gawd's sake!" he broke out, in slow sepulchral tones.
"Oh, yes, indeed, it's you I mean," returned Janey, all smiles. "I'll bet when your horse is tired you pick him up and carry him right home."
"Wal, for Gawd's sake!" ejaculated Ray, exactly as before.
"Are there any more verses to that song?"
"Wal--for Gawd's sake!"
"Third and last--I hope."
"First time I ever seen an angel or heered one talk," he declared.
"Please don't call me an angel. Angels are good. I'm not. I'm wild. That's why I've been dragged out West. Ask Dad, he knows. Say, that reminds me. I'm dying for a smoke. Dad's old-fashioned and I don't carry them when he's around. Could you give me a
"Was you addressin' me, Miss?" he asked, ecstatically.
"Not then. I was speaking to my father. He just left the room.... You--sort of took me by surprise."
"Shore, you tuk my wind."
"Do you live here?" asked Janey, with interest. This trading post might not turn out so badly after all.
"Shore do," replied the young man, grinning.
"Are you Mrs. Bennet's son?"
"Naw. Jest a plain no-good cowboy."
"My very first cowboy!" murmured Janey. "Aw, Miss! I'm shore honored. I'll be yore yore first anythin'. Ain't you the Endicott girl we're expectin'?"
"Yes, I'm Janey Endicott."
"An' I'm Mohave. The boys call me that after the Mohave Desert which ain't got no beginnin' or end."
As Janey broke into laughter another young man entered, also carrying a grip in each hand. He was overdressed, like a motion-picture cowboy, and he had a swarthy, dark face. He gave Janey a warm smile.
"Cowboy, reckon you can put them bags down an' get back for more," blandly said Mohave.
"Buenas dias, Senorita," greeted this one, dropping the bags and sweeping the floor with his sombrero. Janey was quick to see that Mohave suddenly remembered to remove his own wide headgear.
"Same to you," replied Janey, smiling as teasingly as possible.
"Miss Endicott, this here's Diego," said Mohave, apologetically. "He's a Mexican. He seen a Western movie once an' ain't never got over it. He's been dressed up all day waitin' for you."
"I'm tremendously flattered," returned Janey.
"Mees, thees are your bags I carry. I peeck them ut weeth your name on."
"Now there, Buffalo Bill, you mustn't flatter me any more," replied Janey, coquettishly.
"Oh, Mees! Senor Buffalo Beel you call me. I have seen heem in the movies."
Here he drew two guns with an exaggerated motion-picture-drama style. "A-ha! Veelian! Een my power at las'! A-ha! Your time ees come. I keel you!"
He brandished both guns in Janey's face. In alarm she slipped off the window seat to dodge behind a table.
"Diego, you locoed cowpuncher, get on the job," ordered Mohave, forcibly. "Ray is comin'."
Diego evidently had respect for Mohave. Hurriedly sheathing his guns, and picking up his sombrero he recovered the two valises. Meanwhile Janey emerged from behind the table.
"Mees, Diego will act for you again," he announced grandly.
"Ye-es. Thanks. But please make it someplace where I can dodge," replied Janey.
Diego left the room, and Mohave, taking up his load, turned to Janey.
"Miss Endicott, don't trust Diego, or any of these other hombres. An' perticular, don't ride their horses. You'll shore get throwed an' mebbe killed. But my pet horse is shore gentle. I'll take you ridin' tomorrow."
"I'd love to go with you," returned Janey.
Then Mohave made swift tracks after Diego, just in time to escape being seen by a third cowboy, who entered from outside, carrying a trunk as if it had been a feather. He set it down. He was bareheaded, a blond young man, not bad looking, in size alone guaranteed to command respect. And his costume struck a balance between that of Diego and Mohave.
Janey gazed at him and exclaimed, "Well! Tarzan in cowboy boots, no less."
Ray stared, then walked in a circle to see whom she meant. But as there was no other man present he seemed to divine the truth, and approached her straightaway.
"Wal, for Gawd's sake!" he broke out, in slow sepulchral tones.
"Oh, yes, indeed, it's you I mean," returned Janey, all smiles. "I'll bet when your horse is tired you pick him up and carry him right home."
"Wal, for Gawd's sake!" ejaculated Ray, exactly as before.
"Are there any more verses to that song?"
"Wal--for Gawd's sake!"
"Third and last--I hope."
"First time I ever seen an angel or heered one talk," he declared.
"Please don't call me an angel. Angels are good. I'm not. I'm wild. That's why I've been dragged out West. Ask Dad, he knows. Say, that reminds me. I'm dying for a smoke. Dad's old-fashioned and I don't carry them when he's around. Could you give me a
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