tening."

"Wal, Frank, I'm in a sort o' a quandary wi' a critter as wears
pettikotes, an' I want a word o' advice from ye. You're more practised
in thar ways than me. Though a good score o' year older than yurself, I
hain't hed much to do wi' weemen, 'ceptin' Injun squaws an' now an' agin
a yeller gurl down by San Antone. But them scrapes wan't nothin' like
thet Walt Wilder heve got inter now."

"A scrape! What sort of a scrape? I hope you haven't--"

"Ye needn't talk o' hope, Frank Hamersley. The thing air past hopin',
an' past prayin' for. Ef this chile know anythin' o' the signs o' love,
he has goed a good ways along its trail. Yis, sir-ee; too fur to think
o' takin' the backtrack."

"On that trail, indeed?"

"Thet same; whar Cyubit sots his little feet, 'ithout neer a moccasin on
'em. Yis, kummerade, Walt Wilder, for oncest in in his kureer, air in a
difeequelty; an' thet difeequelty air bein' fool enuf to fall in love--
the which he hez dun, sure, sartin."

Hamersley gives a shrug of surprise, accompanied with a slight glance of
indignation. Walt Wilder in love! With whom can it be? As he can
himself think of only one woman worth falling in love with, either in
that solitary spot, or elsewhere on earth, it is but natural his
thoughts should turn to her.

Only for an instant, however. The idea of having the rough Ranger for a
rival is preposterous. Walt, pursuing the theme, soon convinces him he
has no such lofty aspirations.

"Beyond a doubt, she's been an' goed an' dud it--that air garl
Concheeter. Them shining eyes o' her'n hev shot clar through this
chile's huntin' shirt, till thar's no peace left inside o' it. I hain't
slep a soun' wink for mor'en a week o' nights; all the time dreemin' o'
the gurl, as ef she war a angel a hoverin' 'bout my head. Now, Frank,
what am I ter do? That's why I've axed ye to kum out hyar, and enter
into this confaberlation."

"Well, Walt, you shall be welcome to my advice. As to what you should
do, that's clear enough; but what you may or can do will depend a good
deal on what Miss Conchita says. Have you spoken to her upon the
subject?"

"Thar hain't yit been much talk atween us--i'deed not any, I mout say.
Ye know I can't parley thar lingo. But I've approached her wi' as much
skill as I iver did bear or buffler. An', if signs signerfy anythin',
she ain't bad skeeart about it. Contrarywise, Frank. If I ain't
terribly mistuk, she shows as ef she'd