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"I've been looking for some guy to put me on the
right track for years," said Emerson. "You're the
goods, duty free, and half-way to the warehouse in a
red wagon."
"Bacon, toasted on a green willow switch over red
coals, ought to put broiled lobsters out of business,"
said Vuyning. "And you say a horse at the end of a
thirty-foot rope can't pull a ten-inch stake out of wet
prairie? Well, good-bye, old man, if you must
be off."
At one o'clock Vuyning had luncheon with Miss
Allison by previous arrangement.
For thirty minutes be babbled to her, unaccountably, of ranches, horses, cations, cyclones, round-ups,
Rocky Mountains and beans and bacon. She looked
at him with wondering and half-terrified eyes.
"I was going to propose again to-day," said Vuyning, cheerily, but I won't. I've worried you often
enough. You know dad has a ranch in Colorado.
What's the good of staying here? Jumping jonquils! but it's great out there. I'm going to start
next Tuesday."
"No, you won't," said Miss Allison.
"What?" said Vuyning.
"Not alone," said Miss Allison, dropping a tear
upon her salad. "What do you think?"
"Betty!" exclaimed Vuyning, "what do you
mean?
"I'll go too," said Miss Allison, forcibly.
Vuyning filled her glass with Apollinaris.
"Here's to Rowdy the Dude!" he gave -- a toast
mysterious.
"Don't know him," said Miss Allison; "but if
he's your friend, Jimmy -- here goes!"
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