But she smiled at him brightly, and waited
until Baumberger had gone lumbering with rather uncertain steps
to the store, where he puffed up the steps and sat heavily down
in the shade where Pete Hamilton was resting after the excitement
of the past thirty-six hours.
"I lied to you, Mr. Hart," she confessed, engagingly. "I haven't
a thing for you except a lot of questions, and I simply must ask
them or die. I'm not just curious, you know. I'm horribly
anxious. Won't you take the seat of honor, please? The ranch
won't run off if you aren't there for a few minutes after you had
expected to be. I've been waiting to have a little talk with
you, and I simply couldn't let the opportunity go by." She
talked fast, but she was thinking faster, and wondering if this
calm, white-bearded old man thought her a meddlesome fool.
"There's time enough, and it ain't worth much right now,"
Peaceful said, sitting down in the beribboned rocker and stroking
his beard in his deliberate fashion.
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