,
Curly?" says he.

"Not unless you could rope better then than you can now," says I. "And
if you can't ride a horse any better than you can a boat I don't think
you could earn your board."

He took it all right, and only laughed.

I went up through the boathouse and the garridge and up the back steps
into the little portico--sort of storm door that's over the back door of
our house where it looks out over the lake. If you'll believe me, there
was Bonnie Bell standing there, all in her bathing clothes! She hadn't
gone in yet.

"Has he gone, Curly?" says she.

"He has just went," says I. "What are you doing here, all wet? Why
didn't you go in right away?"

"Is he all right, Curly?" says she, sort of rolling her hair up off her
neck and into her rubber cap.

"Yes," says I; "he ain't hurt none."

"What were you talking about so long?" says she.

"A good many things--you, for instance," I says to her.

"What did he say?" she ast of me.

"Why, nothing much; only how sorry he was you saved his life."

"Sorry--why?"

"Well, it makes a man feel mighty mean to have a woman save his life."

"Did he say that?" she says to me. Now when Bonnie Bell smiles she sort
of has a dimple here and there. She sort of smiled now. "What kept you
out there so long? You two people was talking like two old women."

"Well," I says, "I was just promising to show him how to rope; he says
he wants to learn."

"When are you going to show him, Curly?"

"Oh, sometime some morning, like enough, down there on the dock. He says
he'll sneak over from his place, so no one will see him. I don't reckon
your pa will mind my showing a young fellow how to rope--I'd like to
feel a rope in my hand again anyhow. I expect before long he'll be
wearing a wide hat and singing 'O, bury me not on the lone prairee!'"

"Curly," says she.

"What?"

"Did you find my rope in along with those in the big room? I forget
whether I brought it along."

"Kid," says I, "if there's going to be any instruction to hired men on
the rope or mouth organ or jew's-harp, or anything of that sort, it's me
that gives it. I'm segundo on this ranch. Now you go on upstairs."

She had her hair all pushed back now under her cap, wet as it was,
standing there fixing it. She was in her bathing clothes still and awful
wet, but she didn't seem cold. She looked kind of pink and sort of
happy; I don't know why. Lord, she was a fine-looking girl! There never
was one handsomer th