Rowdy of the "Cross L"
"I beg your pardon," he said. "I thought it was a man. I'm looking for the Cross L; you don't happen to know where it is, do yuh?"
"No—I don't," she declared dismally. "I don't know where any place is. I'm teaching school in this neighborhood—or in some other. I was goings to spend Sunday with a friend, but this storm came up, and I'm—lost."
"Same here," said Rowdy pleasantly, as though being lost was a matter for congratulation.
"Oh! I was in hopes"
"So was I, so we're even there. We'll have to pool our chances, I guess. Any gate down that way?—or haven't you followed the fence?"
"I followed it for miles and miles—it seemed. It must be some big field of the Cross L; but they have so very many big fields!"
"And you couldn't give a rough guess at how far it is to the Cross L?"—insinuatingly.
He could vaguely see her shake of head. "Ordinarily it should be about six miles beyond Rodway's, where I board. But I haven't the haziest idea of where Rodway's place is, you see; so that won't help you much. I'm all at sea in this snow." Her voice was rueful.
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