"Tolerable," answered the man, "I've been with him most every day for a year." A swift smile curved the red lips--a smile that hinted of craft rather than levity. "I wonder what's worrying him most, nowadays--Mr. Colston, I mean." "Worryin' him?" The Texan's eyes twinkled. "Well, a man runnin' an outfit like the Y Bar has got plenty on his mind, but the only thing that right down worries him is the hair on his head--an' just between you an' me, he ain't goin' to have to worry long." The air of reserve--of veiled hostility dropped from the girl like a mask, and she laughed--a spontaneous outburst of mirth that kindled new lights in the blue-black eyes, and caused a fanlike array of little wrinkles to radiate from their corners: "I'll answer your question now," she said. "I'm Mrs. Nobody, thank you--I'm Janet McWhorter. But what are you doing on this side of the river? And how's Mr. Colston?" "He's just the finest ever," replied the cowboy, and the girl was quick to note the deep feeling behind the words. "An' I--two of us--were tryin' to cross on the Long Bill's ferry from Timber City, an' the drift piled up again' us so we had to cut the cable, an' we got throw'd into shore against the bench three or four miles above here." "Where's your friend? Is he hurt?" Her eyes rested with a puzzled expression upon the edge of the white bandage that showed beneath the brim of his hat. The Texan shook his head: "No, not hurt I reckon. Just plumb wore out, an' layin' asleep on the bank. I've got to go back." "You'll need two horses." The man shook his head: "No, only one. We had our horses with us. We lost one in the river, an' the other pulled us ashore, an' then beat it up the coulee. I can catch him up all right, if I can get holt of a horse." "Of course you can have a horse! But, you must eat first----" "I can't stop. There'll be time for that later. I'm goin' to bring--my friend back here." "Of course you're going to bring him back here! But you are about all in yourself. Three or four miles through the mud and across the coulees in high-heeled boots, and with your head hurt, and sopping wet, and no breakfast, and--I bet you haven't even had a smoke! Come on, you can eat a bite while I fix up something for your friend, and then you can tackle some of Dad's tobacco. I guess it's awful strong but it will make smoke--clouds of it!" She turned and led the way to the house and as the Texan followed his eyes rested with a suddenly awakened interest upon the girl. "Curious she'd think of me not havin' a smoke," he thought, as his glance strayed from the shapely ankles to the well-rounded forearms from which the sleeves of her grey flannel shirt had been rolled back, and then to the mass of jet black hair that lay coiled in thick braids upon her head. He was conscious that a feeling of contentment--a certain warm glow of well-being pervaded him, and he wondered vaguely why this should be.