Kent faced about and laid both his hands upon her shoulders. His face was very tender and rather sad, and if she had only understood as well as he did--. But she did not. “Little woman, listen here,” he said. “You're playing hard luck, and I know it; maybe I don't know just how hard--but maybe I can kinda give a guess. If you'll think of me as your friend--your pal, and if you'll always tell yourself that your pal is going to stand by you, no matter what comes, why--all right.” He caught his breath. She smiled up at him, honestly pleased, wholly without guile--and wholly blind. “I'd rather have such a friend, just now, than anything I know, except--. But if your sweetheart should object--could you--” His fingers gripped her shoulders tighter for just a second, and he let her go. “I guess that part'll be all right,” he rejoined in a tone she could not quite fathom. “I never had one in m' life.” “Why, you poor thing!” She stood back and tilted her head at him. “You poor--_pal_. I'll have to see about that immediately. Every young man wants a sweetheart--at least, all the young men I ever knew wanted one, and--” “And I'll gamble they all wanted the same one,” he hinted wickedly, feeling himself unreasonably happy over something he could not quite put into words, even if he had dared. “Oh, no. Hardly ever the same one, luckily. Do you know--pal, I've quite forgotten what it was all about--the unburdening of my soul, I mean. After all, I think I must have been just lonesome. The country is just as big, but it isn't quite so--so _empty_, you see. Aren't you awfully vain, to see how you have peopled it with your friendship?” She clasped her hands behind her and regarded him speculatively. “I hope, Mr. Cowboy, you're in earnest about this,” she observed doubtfully. “I hope you have imagination enough to see it isn't silly, because if I suspected you weren't playing fair, and would go away and laugh at me, I'd--scratch--you.” She nodded her head slowly at him. “I've always been told that, with tiger eyes, you find the disposition of a tiger. So if you don't mean it, you'd better let me know at once.” Kent brought the color into her cheeks with his steady gaze. “I was just getting scared _you_ didn't mean it,” he averred. “If my pal goes back on me--why, Lord help her!” She took a slow, deep breath. “How is it you men ratify a solemn agreement?” she puzzled. “Oh, yes.” With a pretty impulse she held out her right hand, half grave, half playful. “Shake on it, pal!” Kent took her hand and pressed it as hard as he dared. “You're going to be a dandy little chum,” he predicted gamely. “But let me tell you right now, if you ever get up on your stilts with me, there's going to be all kinds of trouble. You call me Kent--that is,” he qualified, with a little, unsteady laugh, “when there ain't any one around to get shocked.”