“Say, Girl, know anythin’ about—­about him?”

But very significant as was Nick’s pantomime, which included the keg and Johnson, it succeeded only in bringing forth a laugh from the Girl, and the words: 

“Oh, sure!”

Nevertheless, the faithful guardian of the Girl’s interests sent a startled glance of inquiry about the room, and again asked: 

“All right, eh?”

The Girl ignored the implication contained in the other’s glance, and answered “Yep,” in such a tone of finality that Nick, reassured at last, began to put things ship-shape for the night.  This took but a moment or two, however, and then he quietly disappeared.

“Well, Mr. Johnson, it seems to be us a-keepin’ house here to-night, don’t it?” said the Girl, alone now with the road agent.

Her observation might easily have been interpreted as purposely introductory to an intimate scene, notwithstanding that it was made in a thoroughly matter-of-fact tone and without the slightest trace of coquetry.  But Johnson did not make the mistake of misconstruing her words, puzzled though he was to find a clue to them.  His curiosity about her was intense, and it showed plainly in the voice that said presently: 

“Isn’t it strange how things come about?  Strange that I should have looked everywhere for you and in the end find you here—­at The Polka.”

Johnson’s emphasis on his last words sent a bright red rushing over her, colouring her neck, her ears and her broad, white forehead.

“Anythin’ wrong with The Polka?”

Johnson was conscious of an indiscreet remark; nevertheless he ventured: 

“Well, it’s hardly the place for a young woman like you.”

The Girl made no reply to this but busied herself with the closing-up of the saloon.  Johnson interpreted her silence as a difference of opinion.  Nevertheless, he repeated with emphasis: 

“It is decidedly no place for you.”

“How so?”

“Well, it’s rather unprotected, and—­”

“Oh, pshaw!” interrupted the Girl somewhat irritably.  “I tol’ Ashby only to-night that I bet if a rud agent come in here I could offer ’im a drink an’ he’d treat me like a perfect lady.”  She stopped and turned upon him impulsively with:  “Say, that reminds me, won’t you take somethin’?”

Before answering, Johnson shot her a quick look of inquiry to see whether there was not a hidden meaning in her words.  Of course there was not, the remark being impelled by a sudden consciousness that he might consider her inhospitable.  Nevertheless, her going behind the bar and picking up a bottle came somewhat as a relief to him.

“No, thank you,” at last he said; and then as he leaned heavily on the bar:  “But I would very much like to ask you a question.”

Instantly, to his great surprise, the Girl was eyeing him with mingled reproach and coquetry.  So he was going to do it!  Was it possible that he thought so lightly of her, she wondered.  With all her heart she wished that he would not make the same mistake that others had.