hand,
knowing better than to urge his company upon her. "And I hope you know
how much obliged to you I am. I feel as though you had saved my life
twice. I would not have known what to do in the face of that stampede."

"Every man to his trade," quoted Frances, carelessly. "Good-bye, Pratt.
Come over again to see us," and she gave his hand a quick clasp and
turned away briskly.

He stood and watched her for some moments; then, fearing she might look
back and see him, he faced around himself and set forth on his long
tramp to the Edwards ranch.

It was true Frances did not turn around; but she knew well enough Pratt
gazed after her. He would have been amazed had he known her reason for
showing no further interest in him--for not even turning to wave her
hand at him in good-bye. There were tears on her cheeks, and she was
afraid he would see them.

"I am foolish--wicked!" she told herself. "Of course he knows other--and
nicer--girls than _me_. And it isn't just that, either," she added,
rather enigmatically. "But to remember all those girls I knew in
Amarillo! How different their lives are from mine!

"How different they must look and behave. Why, I'm a perfect
_tomboy_. Pratt said I was wonderful--just as though I were a trick
pony, or an educated goose!

"I do things he never saw a girl do before, and he thinks it strange and
odd. But if that Sue Latrop should see me and say that I was not nice,
he'd begin to see, too, that it is a fact.

"Riding with the boys here on the ranch, and officiating at the
branding-pen, riding herd, cutting out beeves and playing the cowboy
generally, has not added to my 'culchaw,' that is sure. I don't know
that I'd be able to 'act up' in decent society again.

"Pratt looked at me big-eyed last evening when I dressed for dinner. But
he was only astonished and amused, I suppose. He didn't expect me to
look like that after seeing me in this old riding dress.

"Oh, dear!" sighed Frances of the ranges. "I wouldn't leave daddy, or do
anything to displease him, poor dear! But I wish he could be content to
live nearer to civilization.

"We've got enough money. _I_ don't want any more, I'm sure. We
could sell the cattle and turn our ranges into wheat and milo fields.
Then we could live in town part of the year--in Amarillo, perhaps!"

The thought was a daring one. Indeed, she was not wholly confident that
it was not a wicked thought.

Just then she reached the summit of a slight ridge