“In the slack season,” she murmured sarcastically.

“I couldn’t have come in the winter,” he said naively.

Colina despised herself for disputing with him.  She knew she ought to have left at once—­but she was unable to think of a sufficiently telling remark to cover a dignified retreat.

“You are presumptuous!” she said haughtily.

“Presumptuous?” he repeated with a puzzled air.

She decided that he was more simple than bold.  “I mean that men do not say such things to women,” she began as one might rebuke a little boy—­but the conclusion was lamentable, “to women to whom they have not even been introduced!”

“Oh,” he said, “I’m sorry!  I can only stay a few days.  I wanted to get acquainted as quickly as possible.”

A still small voice whispered to Colina that this was a young man after her own heart.  Aloud she remarked languidly:  “How about me?  Perhaps I am not so anxious.”

He looked at her doubtfully, not quite knowing how to take this.  “Really he is too simple!” thought Colina.

“Of course I knew I would have to take my chance,” he said.  “I didn’t expect you to be waiting on the bank with a brass band and a wreath of flowers!”

He smiled so boyishly that Colina, in spite of herself, was obliged to smile back.  Suddenly the absurd image caused them to burst out laughing simultaneously—­and Colina felt herself lost.

Laughter was as dangerous as a train of gunpowder.  Even while he laughed Colina saw that look spring out of his eyes—­the mysterious look that made her feel faint and helpless.

He leaned toward her and a still more candid avowal trembled on his lips.  Colina saw it coming.  Her look of panic-terror restrained him.  He closed his mouth firmly and turned away his head.

Presently he offered her a breast of prairie chicken with a matter-of-fact air.  She shook her head, and a silence fell between them—­a terrible silence.

“Oh, why don’t I go!” thought Colina despairingly.

It was Ambrose who eased the tension by saying comfortably:  “It’s a great experience to travel alone.  Your senses seem to be more alert—­you take in more.”

He went on to tell her about his trip, and Colina lulled to security almost before she knew it was recounting her own journey in the preceding autumn.  It was astonishing when they stuck to ordinary matters—­how like old friends they felt.  Things did not need to be explained.

It provided Colina with a good opportunity to retire.  She rose.

Ambrose’s face fell absurdly.  “Must you go?” he said.

“I suppose I will meet you officially—­later,” she said.

He raised a pair of perplexed eyes to her face.  “I never thought about an introduction,” he said quite humbly.  “You see we never had any ladies up here.”

In the light of his uncertainty Colina felt more assured.  “Oh, we’re sufficiently introduced by this time,” she said offhand.