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Updated: June 17, 2025
"But it wouldn't be that kind of scenery," he added. "How tall are you, muchacha?" Her glance came around in surprise. "I don't know. About five foot five, I think. Why?" "I'm working on that ad. How would this do? 'Miss Three-Quarters-Past-Seventeen wants to meet up with gentleman between eighteen and forty-eight. Object, matrimony.
He rested his weight on the farther stirrup and let his lazy smile mock her. "My estimate would be sixteen. I'll bet you're every day of that." "I only lack three months of being eighteen," she came back indignantly. "You don't say! You'll ce'tainly have to be advertising for a husband soon, Miss Three-Quarters-Past-Seventeen. Maybe an ad in the Mesa paper would help.
There will be a showdown some day, and don't you forget it. Well, Charley is calling me. So long, Miss Three-Quarters-Past-Seventeen." He went jingling down the steps and swung to the saddle. "I'll not forget the ad, and when I find the right man I'll ce'tainly rope and bring him to you." "The rustler?" she asked innocently.
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