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Walter Hine was, indeed, indignant. "Why did you ask him to come again?" he asked, angrily, as the garden door closed upon Chayne. Garratt Skinner laid his hand on Walter Hine's arm. "Don't you worry, Wallie," he said, confidentially. "Every time Chayne comes here he loses ten marks. Give him rope! He does not, after all, know a great deal of geography."
But she turned her eyes quietly back upon her father's face and waited. "His presence will spoil our holiday a little," Garratt Skinner continued with an easy assurance. "You saw, no doubt, what Wallie Hine is, last night a weak, foolish youth, barely half-educated, awkward, with graces of neither mind nor body, and in the hands of two scoundrels."
"Hello," he said, "I was on the point of asking Central to give me this number so I could get you on the upstairs telephone." "Nina and I were talking. I'm sorry." Wallie, in spite of Walter Wheeler's opinion of him, was an engaging youth with a wide smile, an air of careless well-being, and an obstinate jaw.
The first intimation Wallie had of what he had let himself in for was when Rufus asked in a confidential tone, as if he were imparting something for Wallie's ear only: "I wonder if we could get a bite to eat before we start in? We eat so early this morning that I don't feel as if I had had anything."
The sun set and the colours faded, yet Wallie with a dogged tenacity he had not known was in him trudged back and forth, around and around, in pursuit of the runaways, buoyed up chiefly by the hope that if he could catch them he might soon be wealthy enough to afford to kill them. It was nearly dusk, and a night in the open seemed before him when the pair stopped and commenced feeding toward him.
No one ever would have suspected from his positive tone that Mr. Stott never had been in Scotland, either. "I am sorry to insist," said Wallie in response to another significant look from Pinkey, "but we really will have to hurry." Thus urged, they proceeded to clamber in, except Miss Gertie Eyester, who was patting the roan on the nose. "Dear 'ittie horsey!"
The loungers on the veranda were familiars of the pair; hailed them with cacklings; and one began to sing, in a voice all tin: "Then my skirt, Sal, and me did go Right straight to the moving-pitcher show. OH, you bashful vamp!" The girl laughed airily. "God, but you guys are wise!" she said. "Come on, Wallie."
Wallie realized that it would be impossible to resent the implication with proper dignity while lying on the flat of his back looking up at his accuser, so he said nothing, whereupon Miss Mercy flung at him as she departed: "I intend to ask a ride back to Prouty from the first passerby, and I shall knock you and your ranch at every opportunity!"
Mizzi had tasted of the golden fruit and found it dry and profitless, without nourishment or sweetness. The show closed in the midst of a fairly good run. It closed abruptly, without warning. Together they came back to New York. Just outside New York Hahn knocked at the door of Mizzi's drawing room and stuck his round, ugly face in at the opening. "Let's surprise Wallie," he said.
Wallie gave a sharp exclamation, for, in the moment that they watched her, a small herd of the Texas cattle came around a hill and also saw her. They stopped short, and looked at the strange figure. Then, like a band of curious antelope, they edged a little closer.
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