me, Bistre. Tell her I loved her—loved her! Tell herNo, don't tell her anything, old fellow. Or— well, if she should ask, tell her I'm taking my medicine like a man. That's all you need tell her. And now, for heaven's sake, stop looking so woe-begone! Buck up, you sentimental old rascal!"
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"Try and come down for a week or
so in the fall if you're still around
here," said Hunter, as they shook
hands. "And don't forget that you're
to come to my place when you're in
the city. I'll write to you along in
September, if I don't see you, and
we'll arrange for that trip. I want to
see some of those cobalt skies you yarn
about, and the pink mesas, and all the
other impossibly colored things down
there. Good-by! Get down, Bistre!"
Miles tarried in the city just short
