here?" He asked. "Yu shouldn't get so far from
town."

"Why, papa is an invalid and doesn't like to leave his room, and the
town is so dull, although the carnival is waking it up somewhat. Having
nothing to do I procured a horse and determined to explore the country.
Why, this is like Stanley and Livingstone, isn't it? You rescued the
explorer!" And she laughed heartily. He wondered who in thunder Stanley
and Livingstone were, but said nothing.

"I like the West, it is so big and free," she continued. "But it is very
monotonous at times, especially when compared with New York. Papa
swears dreadfully at the hotel and declares that the food will drive him
insane, but I notice that he eats much more heartily than he did when
in the city. And the service!--it is awful. But when one leaves the town
behind it is splendid, and I can appreciate it because I had such a hard
season in the city last winter--so many balls, parties and theaters that
I simply wore myself out."

"I never hankered much for them things," Hopalong replied. "An' I don't
like th' towns much, either. Once or twice a year I gets as far as
Kansas City, but I soon tires of it an' hits th' back trail. Yu see, I
don't like a fence country--I wants lots of room an' air."

She regarded him intently: "I know that you will think me very forward."

He smiled and slowly replied: "I think yu are all O. K."

"There do not appear to be many women in this country," she suggested.

"No, there ain't many," he replied, thinking of the kind to be found
in all of the cow-towns. "They don't seem to hanker for this kind of
life--they wants parties an' lots of dancin' an' them kind of things. I
reckon there ain't a whole lot to tempt em to come.

"You evidently regard women as being very frivolous," she replied.

"Well, I'm speakin' from there not being any out here," he responded,
"although I don't know much about them, to tell th' truth. Them what are
out here can't be counted." Then he flushed and looked away.

She ignored the remark and placed her hand to her hair:

"Goodness! My hair must look terrible!"

He turned and looked: "Yore hair is pretty--I allus did like brown hair."

She laughed and put back the straggling locks: "It is terrible! Just
look at it! Isn't it awful?"

"Why, no: I reckons not," he replied critically. "It looks sort of free
an' easy thataway."

"Well, it's no matter, it cannot be helped," she laughed. "Let's race!"
she cried and was of