Part 31 (1/2)
”Thank you,” laughed Bartley. ”And because of the privilege which I really appreciate, I'll agree to look for another heroine.”
Dorothy had not expected just such an answer. ”In San Andreas?” she queried.
”I can't say. I'll be lucky if I find another, anywhere, to compare--”
”If you had asked me, first,” interrupted Dorothy, ”I might have said 'yes.'”
”I'm sorry I didn't. Won't you reconsider?”
Dorothy shook her head. Then she looked up at him frankly, steadily. ”I think you took me for granted. That is what I didn't like.”
”But--I didn't! It didn't occur to me to really begin my story until after I had seen you. Of course I knew I would write a new story sooner or later. I hope you will believe that.”
”Yes. But I think I know why you decided to stay in San Andreas, instead of riding south, with Cheyenne. Aunt Jane and Little Jim and your heroine were within easy riding distance.”
”I'll admit I intended to write about Aunt Jane and Jimmy. I actually adore Aunt Jane. And Little Jim, he's what one might call an unknown quant.i.ty--”
”He seems to be, just now.”
”Oh, he won't go far,” said Bartley, smiling.
Dorothy tossed her head. ”And Cheyenne--”
”Oh, he is the moving figure in the story. That is not a pun, if you please. I had no idea that Cheyenne could actually hate any one, until the other night when he told me about--Laramie, and that man Sears.”
”Did he talk much about Sears?”
”Not much--but enough. Frankly, I think Cheyenne will kill Sears if he happens to meet him again.”
”And that will furnish the climax for your story!” said Dorothy scornfully.
”Well, if it has to happen--” Bartley paused.
Dorothy's face was troubled. Finally she rose and picked up her gloves and hat.
”I wish some one or something would stop him,” she said slowly. ”He liked you. All the years he has been riding up and down the country he has ridden alone, until he met you. I'm sorry you didn't go with him.”
”He did pretend that he was disappointed when I told him I was going to stay in San Andreas for a while.”
”You thought he was joking, but he wasn't. We have all tried to get him to settle down; but he would not listen. If I were a man--”
”Then you think I could have influenced him?” queried Bartley.
”You might have tried, at least.”
”Well, he's gone. And I'll have to make the best of it--and also find another heroine,” said Bartley lightly, trying to make her smile.
”I'll be the heroine of your story, upon one condition,” Dorothy said, finally.
”And that is--”