Waiting for Moonrise

For upward of two hours Longstreet and Helen were at the store, making their purchases. Carr said good-bye, promising to look them up at their camp at the ridge by the time they should be ready for callers; he shook hands warmly with the professor, and for a moment stood over Helen, looking steadily into her eyes. She returned his regard frankly and friendlily, but in the end flushed a little. When Carr went out, Howard, saying that he would be back presently, went out with him.

'Two bang-up, square-shooting gents!' cried Longstreet warmly. Helen turned upon him in amazement.

'Papa!' she gasped. 'Where on earth did you get that sort of talk?'

Longstreet smiled brightly.

'Haven't I told you, my dear.' he explained, 'that when in Rome one should learn from the Romans?'

He led the way to the counter. It was heaped high with all sorts of merchandise, dry goods and groceries, and hardware--anything the purchaser might desire from ham and bacon and tinned goods to shirts and overalls, spurs and guns. Behind it stood the proprietor, a slant-eyed, thievish-looking Mexican, while behind him were his untidy shelves--a further jumble of commodities. He looked his approval at the girl, his professional interest at the father.

Longstreet frankly turned out the contents of his purse upon the counter, his ready way of computing their resources and judging the proper cash outlay for the present. The slant eyes grew narrower with speculation.