“Son, I swear she doesn’t.”

“Do you mean you’d want us to marry soon?”

“Wal, yes, as soon as Collie would think reasonable.  Jack, she’s shy an’ strange, an’ deep, too.  If you ever win her heart you’ll be richer than if you owned all the gold in the Rockies.  I’d say go slow.  But contrariwise, it’d mebbe be surer to steady you, keep you home, if you married right off.”

“Married right off!” echoed Jack, with a laugh.  “It’s like a story.  But wait till I see her.”

* * * * *

At that very moment Columbine was sitting on the topmost log of a high corral, deeply interested in the scene before her.

Two cowboys were in the corral with a saddled mustang.  One of them carried a canvas sack containing tools and horseshoes.  As he dropped it with a metallic clink the mustang snorted and jumped and rolled the whites of his eyes.  He knew what that clink meant.

“Miss Collie, air you-all goin’ to sit up thar?” inquired the taller cowboy, a lean, supple, and powerful fellow, with a rough, red-blue face, hard as a rock, and steady, bright eyes.

“I sure am, Jim,” she replied, imperturbably.

“But we’ve gotta hawg-tie him,” protested the cowboy.

“Yes, I know.  And you’re going to be gentle about it.”

Jim scratched his sandy head and looked at his comrade, a little gnarled fellow, like the bleached root of a tree.  He seemed all legs.

“You hear, you Wyomin’ galoot,” he said to Jim.  “Them shoes goes on Whang right gentle.”

Jim grinned, and turned to speak to his mustang.  “Whang, the law’s laid down an’ we wanta see how much hoss sense you hev.”

The shaggy mustang did not appear to be favorably impressed by this speech.  It was a mighty distrustful look he bent upon the speaker.

“Jim, seein’ as how this here job’s aboot the last Miss Collie will ever boss us on, we gotta do it without Whang turnin’ a hair,” drawled the other cowboy.

“Lem, why is this the last job I’ll ever boss you boys?” demanded Columbine, quickly.

Jim gazed quizzically at her, and Lem assumed that blank, innocent face Columbine always associated with cowboy deviltry.

“Wal, Miss Collie, we reckon the new boss of White Slides rode in to-day.”

“You mean Jack Belllounds came home,” said Columbine.  “Well, I’ll boss you boys the same as always.”

“Thet’d be mighty fine for us, but I’m feared it ain’t writ in the fatal history of White Slides,” replied Jim.

“Buster Jack will run over the ole man an’ marry you,” added Lem.

“Oh, so that’s your idea,” rejoined Columbine, lightly.  “Well, if such a thing did come to pass I’d be your boss more than ever.”

“I reckon no, Miss Collie, for we’ll not be ridin’ fer White Sides,” said Jim, simply.

Columbine had sensed this very significance long before when the possibility of Buster Jack’s return had been rumored.  She knew cowboys.  As well try to change the rocks of the hills!