An Optimistic Guy

He resumed his journey. By this time his knee was sending telegrams of pain to headquarters. He cut an aspen by the roadside and trimmed it to a walking-stick and, as he went forward, leaned more and more heavily upon it.

"I'm going to have a game leg for fair if I don't look out," he told himself ruefully. "This right pin surely ain't good for a twelve-mile tramp."

It was during one of his frequent stops to rest that a buggy appeared round the turn from the same direction he had come. It drew to a halt in front of him, and the lad who was driving got out.

"Señorita Maria sends a carriage for Señor Gordon to take him to Corbett's," he said.

Dick was on hand with a sardonic smile.

"Tell the señorita that Mr. Gordon regrets having put her to so much trouble, but that he needs the exercise and prefers to walk."

"The señorita said I was to insist, señor."

"Tell your mistress that I'm very much obliged to her, but have made other arrangements. Explain to her I appreciate the offer just the same."

The lad hesitated, and Dick pushed him into decision.

"That's all right, Juan--José--Pedro--Francisco--whatever your name is. You've done your levelest. Now, hike back to the ranch. Vamos! Sabe."

"Si, señor."

Dick heard the wheels disappear in the distance, and laughed aloud.

"That young woman's conscience is hurting her. I reckon this tramp to Corbett's is going to worry her tender heart about as much as it does me, and I've got to sweat blood before I get through with it. Here goes again, Dicky."