"Yes. I reckon they are," doubtfully. She looked up at him, her eyes laughing and her white teeth glistening between their red frames. "Why don't you scold me?" she asked. "Scold you! What for?" "Why, for being on yore ranch, for being across th' line an' in th' valley." "Good Lord! Why, there ain't no lines for you! You can go anywhere." "In th' valley?" she asked, again hiding her face in the flowers. "Why, of course. What ever made you think you can't?" "I'm one of th' H2," she responded. "Paw says I run it. But I'm awful glad you won't care." "Well, as far as riding where you please is concerned, you run this ranch, too." "There's a pretty flower," she said, looking at the top of the bank. "That purple one; see it?" she asked, pointing. "Yes. I'll get it for you," he replied, leaping from the saddle and half way up the bank before she knew it. He slid down again and handed the blossom to her. "There." "Thank you." "See any more you wants?" "No; this is enough. Thank you for getting it for me." "Oh, shucks; that was nothing," he laughed awkwardly. "That was shore easy." "I'm going to give it to you for not scolding me about being over th' line," she said, holding it out to him. "No; not for that," he said slowly. "Can't you think of some other reason?" "Don't you want it?" "Want it!" he exclaimed, eagerly. "Shore I want it. But not for what you said." "Will you wear it because we're friends?" "Now yo're talking!" She looked up and laughed, her cheeks dimpling, and then pinned it to his shirt, while he held his breath lest the inflation of his lungs bother her. It was nice to have a flower pinned on one's shirt by a pretty girl. "There," she laughed, stepping back to look at it. "Gosh!" he complained, ruefully. "You've pinned it up so high I can't see it. Why not put it lower down?" She changed it while he grinned at how his scheming had born fruit. He was a hog, he knew that, but he did not care. "Oh, I reckon _I'm_ all right!" he exulted. "Shore you don't see no more you want?" "Yes; an' I must go now," she replied, going towards her horse. "I'll be late with th' dinner if I don't hurry." "What! Do you cook for that hungry outfit?" "No, not for them--just for Paw an' me." "When are you comin' up again for more flowers?" "I don't know. You see, I'm going to make cookies some day this week, but I don't know just when. Do you like cookies, an' cake?" "You bet I do! Why?" "I'll bring some with me th' next time. Paw says they're th' best he ever ate." "Bet I'll say so, too," he replied, stepping forward to help her into the saddle, but she sprang into it before he reached her side, and he vaulted on his own horse and joined her. She suddenly turned and looked him straight in the eyes. "Tell me, honest, has yore ranch any right to keep our cows south of that line?"