He had not imagined that a Western girl could be so
thoroughly domestic, natural, charming, and at the same time manage a
horse so well. He had visioned Western girls as hard-voiced horse-women,
masculine, bold, and rather scornful of a man who did not wear chaps and
ride broncos. True, Dorothy was not like the girls in the East. She
seemed less sophisticated--less inclined to talk small talk just for its
own sake; yet, concluded Bartley, she was utterly feminine and quite
worth while.
Cheyenne smiled as Bartley suggested that they stay in San Andreas a few
days; and Cheyenne nodded in the direction from which they had come.
"I kinda like this part of the country, myself," he said, "but I hate to
spend all my money in one place."
Bartley suddenly realized that his companion, was nothing more than a
riding hobo, a vagrant, without definite means of support, and
disinclined to stay in any one place long.
"I'll take care of the expenses," said Bartley.
Cheyenne smiled, but shook his head. "It ain't that, right now. Me, I
got to shoot that there game of craps with Panhandle, and I figure he
won't ride this way.
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