The maiden in Jessamine spoke instantly. “Indeed? There was no special obligation for you to call on me, or her to notice if you didn't.” “Oh!” said Lin, crestfallen. “Yu' sure don't mean that?” She looked at him, and was compelled to melt. “No, neighbor, I don't mean it.” “Neighbor!” he exclaimed; and again, “Neighbor,” much pleased. “Now it would sound kind o' pleasant if you'd call me that for a steady thing.” “It would sound kind of odd, Mr. McLean, thank you.” “Blamed if I understand her,” cried Lin. “Blamed if I do. But you're going to understand me sure quick!” He rushed inside the station, spoke sharply to the agent, and returned in the same tremor of elation that had pushed him to forwardness with his girl, and with which he seemed near bursting. “I've been here three days to meet you. There's a letter, and I expect I know what's in it. Tubercle has got it here.” He took it from the less hasty agent and thrust it in Jessamine's hand. “You needn't to fear. Please open it; it's good news this time, you bet!” He watched it in her hand as the boy of eight watches the string of a Christmas parcel he wishes his father would cut instead of so carefully untie. “Open it,” he urged again. “Keeping me waiting this way!” “What in the world does all this mean?” cried Jessamine, stopping short at the first sentence. “Read,” said Lin. “You've done this!” she exclaimed. “Read, read!” So she read, with big eyes. It was an official letter of the railroad, written by the division superintendent at Edgeford. It hoped Miss Buckner might feel like taking the position of agent at Separ. If she was willing to consider this, would she stop over at Edgeford, on her way east, and talk with the superintendent? In case the duties were more than she had been accustomed to on the Louisville and Nashville, she could continue east with the loss of only a day. The superintendent believed the salary could be arranged satisfactorily. Enclosed please to find an order for a free ride to Edgeford. Jessamine turned her wondering eyes on Lin. “You did do this,” she repeated, but this time with extraordinary quietness. “Yes,” said he. “And I am plumb proud of it.” She gave a rich laugh of pleasure and amusement; a long laugh, and stopped. “Did anybody ever!” she said. “We can call each other neighbors now, yu' see,” said the cow-puncher. “Oh no! oh no!” Jessamine declared. “Though how am I ever to thank you?” “By not argufying,” Lin answered. “Oh no, no! I can do no such thing. Don't you see I can't? I believe you are crazy.” “I've been waiting to hear yu' say that,” said the complacent McLean. “I'm not argufying. We'll eat supper now. The east-bound is due in an hour, and I expect you'll be wanting to go on it.” “And I expect I'll go, too,” said the girl. “I'll be plumb proud to have yu',” the cow-puncher assented. “I'm going to get my ticket to Chicago right now,” said Jessamine, again laughing, sunny and defiant.