r.

"No, I reckon I'll wait, Curly," he answered, turning away with a
long breath. "Well, we better go out and get some grub, tortillas and
frijoles, don't you think?"

"Just as you like." The lad's breath was coming a little fast. They had
been on the edge of some moment of intimacy that Bucky's partner both
longed for and dreaded. "But you have not told me yet whether I can go
with you."

"You can't. I'm sorry. I'd like first-rate to take you, if you want to
go, but I can't do it. I hate to disappoint you if you're set on it, but
I've got to, kid. Anything else you want I'll be glad to do."

He added this last because Frank looked so broken-hearted about it.

"Very well." Swift as a flash came the demand: "Tell me these heaps of
first-rate reasons you were mentioning just now."

Under the sun-tan he flushed. "I reckon I'll have to make another
exception, Curly. Those reasons ain't ripe yet for telling."

"Then if you are--if anything happens--I'll never know them. And you
promised you would tell me--you, who pretend to hate a liar so," she
scoffed.

"Would it do if I wrote those reasons and left them in a sealed
envelope? Then in case anything happened you could open it and satisfy
that robust curiosity of yours." He recognized that he had trapped
himself, and he was making the best bargain left him.

"You may write them, if you like. But I'm going to open the letter,
anyway. The reasons belong to me now. You promised."

"I'll make a new deal with you, then," he smiled. "I'll take awful good
care of myself to-night if you'll promise not to open the envelope for
two weeks unless--well, unless that something happens that we ain't
expecting."

"Call it a week, and it's a bargain."

"Better say when we're back across the line again. That may be inside of
three days, if everything goes well," he threw in as a bait.

"Done. I'm to open the letter when we cross the line into Texas."

Bucky shook the little hand that was offered him and wished mightily
that he had the right to celebrate with more fervent demonstrations.

That afternoon the ranger wrote with a good deal of labor the letter
he had promised. It appeared to be a difficult thing for him to deliver
himself even on paper of those good and sufficient reasons. He made
and destroyed no less than half a dozen openings before at last he
was fairly off. Meanwhile, Master Frank, busy over some alterations in
Bucky's gypsy suit, took pleasure in deriding w