“Perhaps,” said Fair; “but I hope you’ll come to see us often—maybe some day you’ll take a ride with us up to the head of Blue Stone. I do quite a bit of exploring around and about. Will you come?”
Nance’s face flushed with frank pleasure. “Why, I’d love it,” she said. “We’ll cut up through Little Blue and I’ll show you Grey Spring and the Circle. Bud and I named them. We found them three years ago.”
“Then we’ll consider ourselves engaged, eh, Sonny?” smiled Fair. “Engaged to Miss Allison for a long day’s ride?”
“And will you bring some more cookies?” asked the boy lifting eager eyes to his adored.
“Honey,” said Nance, kneeling to kiss him good-bye, since she was making ready to leave, “Nance’d bring you anything she’s got or could get. She’ll bring us all a whole big lunch.”
“Old-timer,” said Fair severely, “I’m ashamed of you. We’ll furnish some fish ourselves.”
He held out a hand and the girl laid her own in it.
For a little space they stood so, smiling into each other’s eyes and neither knew that magic was working among the gathering shadows. They seemed to be old friends, as if they had known each other ages back, and the grip of their hands was a kindly thing, familiar.
Then a sudden confusion took the girl and she drew her fingers quickly away.
“I’ll come,” she said, “next week—on Tuesday morning—early.”