right,’ and I’ll know what you mean.  And anyway I’ll write to you and I hope you’ll write to me, because I am sure going to miss you till I come back.  I wish I had the nerve to go right up to the house and tell you all this instead of writing, but I know I couldn’t do it, so I won’t try.  But you be sure and let me know some way over the ’phone.  So good-bye for the present.  Always your faithful Skyrider, Johnny.”

His letter to her father was not so long, and it was more coherent.  To Sudden he had written: 

  Mr. Selmer.

Dear Sir,—­I have decided to fly my airplane to where I can sell it, and will turn the money over to you to help pay for the expense you have been under of having your horses stole.  I can’t find out how many you lost all told, but whatever I can get for the plane will not cover it, I am afraid, so I will make up the balance as soon as possible.

I want to thank you for all the kindness of yourself and family while I was sick, and before and afterwards.  You have certainly treated me white, and much better than I deserve, and I certainly appreciate it all, and some day I will refund every nickel you are out on account of having me in your employ.  The doctor’s bill I intend to pay and the nurse, too, and whatever you were out on getting the plane repaired.

I am thinking of enlisting somewhere as an aviator, as that seems to be my chosen field.  I am leaving early in the morning if the weather is all right for flying, and one of the boys will give you this letter so you will know why I went and not think I sneaked off.  I am fully determined to make good, and when I have done so I will come back and finish squaring up for your trouble and expense in having the horses stole.  I feel that I balled things up bad, and it is my desire to square everything up.

I feel that it is merely the square thing to tell you I love your daughter Mary V, and I hope you will not object to having me marry her when I have made good.  Of course, I would not want to until I had done so.  And I hope that will be all right with you; but if it isn’t, it is only fair to tell you that you won’t be able to stop me if she is willing, and I hope she is.  So I am merely telling you, and not asking, because that ain’t my style; when I have made good I will do my asking to Mary V. And I hope you will not think I have got my gall, because I am very grateful for all you have done for me and your family also.  I will write when I have made some deal to turn the plane so I can send you whatever it brings.

  Yours truly,

  John Ivan Jewel.

Old Sudden did not say anything when he had read that letter—­read it twice, to be exact.  He folded it carefully and gave it to his wife to read, and sat smoothing down his face with his hand while she studied it, reading slowly, sometimes going back to get the full meaning out of a somewhat involved sentence.