“Match-making already!” laughed Endicott.  “Why buy a ranch?  Why not move into Wolf River, or Timber City, and start a regular matrimonial agency—­satisfaction guaranteed, or your money back.  It would be more prac——­”

“Winthrop Adams Endicott!”

“Oh, I forgot!  I’m not practical.  I’m romantic, and red-blooded, and—­” they had the little dining-room to themselves; he rose swiftly from his chair and, crossing to her side, stooped and kissed her, not once, but twice, and thrice,—­“I’m glad of it!  And that reminds me, I have a couple of errands to attend to, so you will have to manage to worry along without me for fifteen minutes or so.”

She laughed up into his face:  “How can I ever stand it?  I’ve worried along without you all my life.  I guess I’ll survive.”

“You won’t have to much longer,” he smiled, and hastened from the room.  A half-hour later he returned to find her waiting in the hotel “parlour.”  She saw that his eyes were shining as he crossed eagerly, seated himself upon the haircloth sofa beside her, and whispered in her ear.

“Winthrop!  Indeed we won’t do anything of the kind!  Why it’s—­it’s——­”

“It’s impractical, and it’s romantic,” he finished for her.  “Also, it’s unconventional.  Now, refuse if you dare!  The stage leaves for Lewiston and the railroad at five.  He seems to be a regular chap—­the parson.  Both he and his wife insisted that the event take place in their house.  Said it would be much pleasanter than the hotel—­and I heartily agreed with them.  We figured that half-past four would give us just about time.”

“Well, of all things!” blushed the girl.  “You two arranged the whole affair, and of course, as I’m only the bride, it wasn’t necessary to consult me at all!”

“Exactly,” smiled Endicott; “I’m red-blooded, you know, and romantic—­and when I go in for little things like unconventionality, and romance, I go the limit.  And you don’t dare refuse!”

She looked up into his eyes, shining with boyish enthusiasm:  “I don’t dare,” she whispered.  “I don’t want to dare.  Oh, Win, I—­I’m just crazy about it!”

A few moments later she drew away from him and smoothed her hair.

“You must go right this minute and find Tex.  And, oh, I hope Bat will be here in time!  I just love old Bat!” She ceased speaking and looked questioningly into his eyes which had suddenly become grave.

“I have been looking for Tex, and I couldn’t find him anywhere.  Then I went to the stable across the street.  His horse is gone.”

For some moments both were silent.  “He never even said good-bye,” faltered the girl, and in her voice was a note of real hurt.

“No,” answered Endicott, softly, “he should have said good-bye.”