“What!” gasped Elaine. “You’ve--after we are married! Well, Mr. Bud Yancey, you’ve got a long, long time to live before that ever happens. Why, you’ve only known me about three weeks! How do you know that I--” “I don’t,” interrupted Bud sorrowfully. “That’s just what is keeping me dizzy. Do you reckon that you--” “No, I don’t,” said Elaine, interrupting in her turn, “and furthermore, I think you better sit right down here on this step until you get less dizzy, Mr. Yancey.” “I’ll have to,” said Bud, as faintly as possible. “Better have that Chink hurry with the drink; I’m getting worse.” “Here he comes now to see if we want anything. I think you are much too dizzy to have anything put in yours, either. You’ll get lemonade, plain.” “My gosh!” said Bud, sitting down. “I sure wish you hadn’t asked me that question.” Then, being young and gay and happy, they both laughed and Elaine sat down beside him. * * * * * Two weeks later Lieutenant Webb, his right arm in a sling, a bandage around his head, looked up from where he was lying on the living-room couch. “Where the dickens have you been?” he demanded as Elaine came in. “I got here as soon as I could after I heard about it,” she answered, coming over and kneeling by the couch, kissing him. “What happened, Johnny? Are you badly hurt, tell me! Darling, you should be more careful. Did you break your arm?” “Who, me? I should say not. I keep it this way because it’s cooler and--” “John Norton Webb, you answer me! What happened, and how badly are you hurt?” “Aw, I’m not hurt at all. Quit fussin’ at me. I tried out a bus this morning, and when I landed her, the undercarriage came away, and I washed out, that’s all.” “And got a broken arm and a--is your head bad, Johnny?” “No, only a scratch, honest and truly, no foolin’. Where you been?” “Up on the Lazy W Ranch to see Ma Earp. Bud took me up there. I met Betty Yancey, Jack.” “You did! Isn’t she a bearcat? Listen, Lainy--put in a good word for me, will you? You know, tell her what a noble guy I am, and what a swell husband I’d make, and--” “I wont--do your own horn-tooting, young feller. Oh, Jack, you’d love Ma Earp. She’s--” “Where do you get that ‘Ma’ stuff?” demanded her brother. “Everyone calls her Ma,” defended Elaine. “Bud asked me to.” “And that reminds me,” said John sternly, “how-come you running around all over the lot with that darn ranger? Hasn’t he got any rangering to do at all? Whenever I asked where in the dickens you were, someone says, ‘Why, she just started with Bud Yancey for Gafoozalum or Doflicker, or some place.’” “Why, darling,” answered Elaine, trying to look surprised, “I just wanted to see if a Webb could make a Yancey--like them. It was on your account I have been doing it, Jonathan.” “Yeah? You fool around with these birds down here, and you’ll wake up married.” Elaine laughed. “Don’t worry, Jonathan; I can take care of myself.”