with flushed and downcast face. Helen
recorded her first experience of Bo's utter discomfiture. Bo turned
white then red as a rose.

"Say, my niece said she never heard of the name Carmichael," declared
Al, severely, as the cowboy halted before him. Helen knew her uncle had
the repute of dealing hard with his men, but here she was reassured and
pleased at the twinkle in his eye.

"Shore, boss, I can't help thet," drawled the cowboy. "It's good old
Texas stock."

He did not appear shamefaced now, but just as cool, easy, clear-eyed,
and lazy as the day Helen had liked his warm young face and intent gaze.

"Texas! You fellars from the Pan Handle are always hollerin' Texas.
I never seen thet Texans had any one else beat--say from Missouri,"
returned Al, testily.

Carmichael maintained a discreet silence, and carefully avoided looking
at the girls.

"Wal, reckon we'll all call you Las Vegas, anyway," continued the
rancher. "Didn't you say my niece sent you to me for a job?"

Whereupon Carmichael's easy manner vanished.

"Now, boss, shore my memory's pore," he said. "I only says--"

"Don't tell me thet. My memory's not p-o-r-e," replied Al, mimicking
the drawl. "What you said was thet my niece would speak a good word for
you."

Here Carmichael stole a timid glance at Bo, the result of which was
to render him utterly crestfallen. Not improbably he had taken Bo's
expression to mean something it did not, for Helen read it as a mingling
of consternation and fright. Her eyes were big and blazing; a red spot
was growing in each cheek as she gathered strength from his confusion.

"Well, didn't you?" demanded Al.

From the glance the old rancher shot from the cowboy to the others of
his employ it seemed to Helen that they were having fun at Carmichael's
expense.

"Yes, sir, I did," suddenly replied the cowboy.

"A-huh! All right, here's my niece. Now see thet she speaks the good
word."

Carmichael looked at Bo and Bo looked at him. Their glances were
strange, wondering, and they grew shy. Bo dropped hers. The cowboy
apparently forgot what had been demanded of him.

Helen put a hand on the old rancher's arm.

"Uncle, what happened was my fault," she said. "The train stopped at Las
Vegas. This young man saw us at the open window. He must have guessed we
were lonely, homesick girls, getting lost in the West. For he spoke to
us--nice and friendly. He knew of you. And he asked, in what I took
for fun, if we thought