"You think I'll not be able to stick, senator?"
"You can, you can, but—will you? There aren't many compensations, and darn little poetry, in the rough life of a cow camp."
Mrs. Nearing came to the porch, cutting off by her appearance whatever protest or declaration of intentions Barrett might have made. Alma came after her shortly, to say good night. Senator Nearing told them of their guest's desire to take up life in the sadde next day, at which both ladies protested, and argued volubly against it. Barrett remained firm, in spite of the comically dismal picture Alma drew of such adventuring.
"Well, sleep late in the morning, then," she advised, as she gave him her hand in good night, "It will be a blanket among the ants for you after this, and up at the streak o' day."
"Raven!" laughed Nearing, waving her away. "Off to roost with you!"
Up in the morning early.
quoted Alma from the door.
Barrett, in his room a good while later, sat by the window watching the moonlight whiten in the patio where the roses bloomed, and aspen trees whispered like prophets of things that have been and are to be again. Disarmed by Nearing's frank statement of conditions, his offer to throw the books open and uncover all transactions to the root, Barrett was doubtful, nevertheless.
There was something that books would not show nor receipts account for, in the very heart and secret core
