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me, Bistre. Tell her I loved her—loved her! Tell her——No, 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!"


"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

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