She heard Lorry clump upstairs and enter a room across the hall.  She knew it was he.  She could hear the clink of his spurs and the swish of his chaps.  While she realized that he was Mrs. Adams’s son and had a right to be there, she rather resented his proximity, possibly because she had not expected to see him again.

She had no idea that he had been discharged by his foreman, nor that he had earned the disapproval of his mother for having quarreled.  Of course he had ridden to Stacey to bring the prisoner in, but he knew they were in Stacey, and Alice Weston liked to believe that he would make excuse to stay in town while they were there.  It would be fun—­for her.

After supper that evening Mrs. Weston and Alice were introduced to Waring, who came in late.  Waring chatted with Mrs. Weston out on the veranda in the cool of the evening.  Alice was surprised that her mother seemed interested in Waring.  But after a while, as the girl listened, she admitted that the man was interesting.

The conversation drifted to mines and mining.  Mrs. Weston declared that she had never seen a gold mine, but that her husband owned some stock in one of the richest mines in Old Mexico.  Waring grew enthusiastic as he described mine operating in detail, touching the subject with the ease of experience, yet lightly enough to avoid wearisome technicalities.  The girl listened, occasionally stealing a glance at the man’s profile in the dusk.  She thought the boy Lorry looked exceedingly like Mr. Waring.

And the person who looked exceedingly like Mr. Waring sat at the far end of the veranda, talking to Buck Hardy, the sheriff.  And Lorry was not altogether happy.  His interest in the capture and reward had waned.  He had never dreamed that a girl could be so captivating as Alice Weston.  At supper she had talked with him about the range, asking many questions; but she had not referred to that morning.  Lorry had hoped that he might talk with her after supper.  But somehow or other she had managed to evade his efforts.  Just now she seemed to be mightily interested in his father.

Presently Lorry rose and strode across the street to the station.  He talked with the agent, who showed him a telegraph duplicate for an order on Albuquerque covering a steering-knuckle for an automobile.  When Lorry reappeared he was whistling.  It would take some time for that steering-knuckle to arrive.  Meanwhile, he was out of work, and the Westons would be at the hotel for several days at least.

There was some mighty fine scenery back in the Horseshoe Range, west.  Perhaps the girl liked Western scenery.  He wondered if she knew how to ride.  He was rather inclined to think that her mother did not.  He would suggest a trip to the Horseshoe Mountains, as it would be pretty dull at the hotel.  Nothing but cowboys and Indians riding in and out of town.  But there were some Hopi ruins over in the Horseshoe.  Most Easterners were interested in ruins.  He wished that the Hopis had left a ruin somewhat nearer town.