Yes, it did seem a good number to him, he told her, since he was accustomed to seeing five or six meek old cows in a New England pasture. Then he asked her more and more about her home and the land about, and, as she told him, she liked him more and more, and wished he were her grandfather. He, in turn, told her that he lived in Boston, but had been to Portland, Oregon, on a visit to his married daughter, and was now returning home. “Then he will go all the way,” thought Virginia gladly. Also, after she had candidly told him that he looked like a soldier, he told her that he had been a Colonel in the Civil War, and ended by telling her that his name was Colonel Carver Standish. At that Virginia felt a longing to take from her bag one of her new cards and present it to him; but it would be silly, she concluded, since he had only told her his name, and so she said quite simply: “And my name is Virginia Hunter,” which pleased the old Colonel far better than a calling card would have done. “And now, Miss Virginia,” he said, “if you will pardon me for what looks like curiosity, will you tell me about Jim and William? I couldn’t exactly help overhearing what you said to your father. I hope you’ll excuse me?” Virginia smiled. She did enjoy being treated like a young lady. “Certainly,” she said. And she told him all about poor old Jim, his wooden leg, the accident that necessitated it, his learning to read, which greatly interested the old Colonel, and his kindness to her ever since she was a little girl. Then, seeing that he really liked to know, she told him of the evening before, and the new saddle which the boys had given her. “Capital!” cried the Colonel, slapping his knee in his excitement, quite to the amusement of a little boy, who had come out-of-doors and who sat with his mother on the other side of the platform. “Capital! Just what they should have done, too! They must be fine fellows. I’d like to know them.” “Oh, you would like them!” she told him. “I know you would! I love them all, but Jim the best. And this morning, Colonel Standish” (for if he called her by name she must return the courtesy), “this morning when the other men had all gone to the round-up, Jim harnessed the horses for father to drive me to the station. But he felt so bad to have me go away that he couldn’t bear to bring the horses up to the door, so he tied them and called to father; and when we drove away and I looked back, he was leaning all alone against the bunk-house. And, some way, I think he was crying.” She looked up at the Colonel, her eyes filled with tears. The Colonel slapped his knee again, and blew his nose vigorously. “I shouldn’t wonder a bit if that’s what he was doing, Miss Virginia,” he said. “Fine old man! And what about William?” he asked after a few moments.