n if I AM a girl out West and--"

"But Lahoma--"

"And not another word do I want you to say about it. EVER. At least,
tonight. PLEASE, Wilfred! So I can think about it. I'll hold the
horse--you go on and find out what's the matter.

"Besides, you said--you KNOW you said, when we were
strolling--that--that I didn't understand such matters. And that you'd
tell me when it was TIME...."

"It's time now, Lahoma, time for you to be somebody's sweetheart--and
you said--you KNOW you said, when we were strolling--that I'd fill the
bill for you."

"But I brought up the subject myself, and I mean to close it, right
short off, for it's a man's subject. Oh, how trembly this horse is!"

"But, Lahoma!"

"Well, what is it?"

"I just wanted to say your name." He started away. "It sounds good to
me."

"Yes, it stands for Oklahoma."

"It stands for much more than that!" he called.

"Yes," she persisted in misunderstanding him, "something big and grand."

"Not so big," he cried, now at some distance, "but what there's room
for more than Brick and Bill in the cove!"

If she answered, the wind drowned her words. With extended arms he
groped along the trail with exceeding caution. Suddenly his foot
touched an object which on examination proved to be a human body, a
gaping wound in its breast.

"Found anything?" called Lahoma, her voice shivering.

He rose quickly and almost stumbled over another object. It was a
second body, stiffened in death.

"I'll be there in a minute," he called, his voice grave and steady.
After a brief pause he added--"I've found one of the horses--it's dead."

"Oh, oh!" she exclaimed. "They've driven it to death."

Wilfred had found a bullet hole behind its ear, but he said nothing.

Suddenly the horse held by Lahoma gave a plunge, broke away and went
galloping back over the trail they had traversed, pursued by Lahoma's
cry of dismay. "I couldn't hold him," she gasped. "He lifted me clear
off the ground...."

Wilfred was also dismayed, but he preserved an accent of calm as he
felt his way toward her, uttering encouragement for which their
condition offered no foundation. But his forced cheerfulness suddenly
changed to real congratulation when his extended hand struck against an
upright wheel.

"Lahoma, here's the stage-coach. It's standing just as we saw it last,
except for the horses."

"The stage-coach!" she marveled, coming toward him. "Oh, Wilfred, I
see now what's