“But you don’t belong here, Chita,” he insisted. “You belong on a throne, with a retinue of slaves and retainers waiting on you.” She leaned back and laughed merrily. “And the first thing I’d know the king would catch me eating peas with my knife and pull the throne out from under me.” “I’m serious, Chita,” urged King. “Come with me; let me take you away from this. The only throne I can offer you is in my heart, but it will be all yours—forever.” “I’d like to, Ad,” she replied. “You don’t know how great the temptation is, but——” “Then why not?” he exclaimed, rising and coming toward her. “We could be married at the post; and I could get a short leave, I’m sure, even though I haven’t been in the service two years. All your worries about the ranch would be over. You wouldn’t have anything to do, Chita, but be happy.” “It wouldn’t be fair, Ad,” she said. “Fair? What do you mean?” he demanded. “It wouldn’t be fair to you.” “Why?” “Because I don’t know whether I love you enough or not.” “I’ll take the chance,” he told her. “I’ll make you love me.” She shook her head. “If I was going to marry a man and face a life that I was sure was going to be worse than the one I was leaving, I’d know that I loved him; and I wouldn’t hesitate a minute; but if I marry you it might just be because what you have to offer me looks like heaven compared to the life I’ve been leading since Dad died. I think too much of you and my self-respect to take the chance of waking up to the fact some day that I don’t love you. That would be Hell for us both, Ad; and you don’t deserve it—you’re too white.” “I tell you that I’m perfectly willing to take the chance, Chita.” “Yes, but I won’t let you. Wait a while. If I really love you I’ll find it out somehow, and you’ll know it—if you don’t I’ll tell you—but I’m not sure now.” “Is there someone else, Chita?” “No!” she cried, and her vehemence startled him. “I’ll wait, then, because I have to wait,” he said, “and in the meantime if there is any way in which I can help you, let me do it.” “Well,” she said, laughing, “you might teach the cows how to drill. I can’t think of anything else around a cow outfit, right off-hand, that you could do. Sometimes it seems to me like they didn’t have any cows back where you came from.” King laughed. “They used to. All the streets in Boston were laid out by cows, they say.” “Out here,” said Chita, “we drive our cows—we don’t follow them.” “Perhaps that’s the difference between the East and the West,” said King. “Out here you blaze your own trails. I guess that’s where you get your self-confidence and initiative.” “And it may account for some of our shortcomings, too,” she replied. “When you’re just following cows you have lots of time to think of other things and improve yourself, but when you’re driving them you haven’t time to think of anything except just cows. That’s the fix I’m in now.”