you would give him a job. And I replied, just to
tease Bo, that she would surely speak a good word for him."

"Haw! Haw! So thet's it," replied Al, and he turned to Bo with merry
eyes. "Wal, I kept this here Las Vegas Carmichael on his say-so. Come on
with your good word, unless you want to see him lose his job."

Bo did not grasp her uncle's bantering, because she was seriously gazing
at the cowboy. But she had grasped something.

"He--he was the first person--out West--to speak kindly to us," she
said, facing her uncle.

"Wal, thet's a pretty good word, but it ain't enough," responded Al.

Subdued laughter came from the listening group. Carmichael shifted from
side to side.

"He--he looks as if he might ride a horse well," ventured Bo.

"Best hossman I ever seen," agreed Al, heartily.

"And--and shoot?" added Bo, hopefully.

"Bo, he packs thet gun low, like Jim Wilson an' all them Texas
gun-fighters. Reckon thet ain't no good word."

"Then--I'll vouch for him," said Bo, with finality.

"Thet settles it." Auchincloss turned to the cowboy. "Las Vegas, you're
a stranger to us. But you're welcome to a place in the outfit an' I hope
you won't never disappoint us."

Auchincloss's tone, passing from jest to earnest, betrayed to Helen the
old rancher's need of new and true men, and hinted of trying days to
come.

Carmichael stood before Bo, sombrero in hand, rolling it round and
round, manifestly bursting with words he could not speak. And the girl
looked very young and sweet with her flushed face and shining eyes.
Helen saw in the moment more than that little by-play of confusion.

"Miss--Miss Rayner--I shore--am obliged," he stammered, presently.

"You're very welcome," she replied, softly. "I--I got on the next
train," he added.

When he said that Bo was looking straight at him, but she seemed not to
have heard.

"What's your name?" suddenly she asked.

"Carmichael."

"I heard that. But didn't uncle call you Las Vegas?"

"Shore. But it wasn't my fault. Thet cow-punchin' outfit saddled it on
me, right off. They Don't know no better. Shore I jest won't answer to
thet handle.... Now--Miss Bo--my real name is Tom."

"I simply could not call you--any name but Las Vegas," replied Bo, very
sweetly.

"But--beggin' your pardon--I--I don't like thet," blustered Carmichael.

"People often get called names--they don't like," she said, with deep
intent.

The cowboy blushed scarlet. Helen as well as he go