Page 311 sur 439

"You mustn't talk to me, Dick," responded his friend gravely.

"Little Willie told a lie, and he's being stood in a corner."

Arlie flushed angrily, opened her mouth to speak, and, changing

her mind, looked at him witheringly. He didn't wither, however.

Instead, he smiled broadly, got out his mouth organ, and

cheerfully entertained them with his favorite, "I Met My Love In

the Alamo."

The hot blood under dusky skin held its own in her cheeks. She

was furious with him, and dared not trust herself to speak. As

soon as they had passed through the defile she spurred forward,

as if to turn the leaders. France turned to his friend and

laughed ruefully.

"She's full of pepper, Steve."

The ranger nodded. "She's all right, Dick. If you want to know,

she's got a right to make a doormat of me. I lied to her. I was

up against it, and I kinder had to. You ride along and join her.

If you want to get right solid, tell her how many kinds of a

skunk I am. Worst of it is, I ain't any too sure I'm not."