it," he said.

When she asked him how he could have saved the thousand dollars
demanded for the stable out of his salary of forty dollars a month, he
replied:

"By economizin'. I've cut off my chawin-tobacco."

"That cost you two bits a week, an' you've taken up cigarettes at a
dime a day," said observant Polly. "I know what you've been doin',
you've been gamblin'."

"Cross my heart, Polly, I haven't," said Bud, and Polly, who had no
great objection to using money won at cards, so long as she did not
positively know the fact, discontinued her objections, and resumed the
delightful occupation of castle-building. The home she had in view
consisted of three rooms over the livery-stable.

"I want a red carpet in the front room, and wallpaper like that at
Bowen's store, with hosses jumpin' gates on it--"

"Don't you think there will be a leetle too much hoss there, Polly,
with the stable under us, an' the smell a-comin' up--"

"Sho, Bud, you can't have too much hoss. Why, it was the hoss smell
about your clothes that made me fall in love with you," exclaimed the
enthusiastic horsewoman. She continued:

"An' I want a yellow plush furniture set, an' a photograph-album to
match, an' a center-table, an' a Rock-of-Ages picture, an' a boudoir--"

A boudoir was beyond the ken of Bud. He knew nothing of housekeeping.
This must be one of those strange articles, the mystery of which he
would have to solve before he could feel that he was really a married
man.

"What the devil is a boudoir?" he asked.

"I don't know what it is, but all rich women have them."

Bud took both of Polly's hands in his. Looking her fondly in the eyes,
he said: "Then, by thunder, I'll get you two of 'em. We'll raise the
limit when we furnish that shack. I'm the happiest man in the country."

"Well you ought to be," laughed Polly. "Just see what you are gettin'."

"I've got to chase myself back to the house. You're ridin' night herd
to-night, ain't you?" she added.

"Yes. I'm on the cocktail to-night. I am goin' to bunk down here.
I'll be up to the house at sunup, and we can go over to Florence
together."

"I'll have breakfast ready for you. Rope my pony for me, will you?"

Bud was smiling and happy again. All of his troubles were forgotten.
"All right!" he cried, as he started to mount.

"Say, you're awful forgetful, aren't you?" asked Polly demurely.

Bud looked about him slightly bewildered. Then he realized his
over