"You had better tell me now." The gaze that fell before his
steady eyes was both shy and eager.
"No, I reckon I'll wait, Curly," he answered, turning away with a
long breath. "Well, we better go out and get some grub, tortillas
and frijoles, don't you think?"
"Just as you like." The lad's breath was coming a little fast.
They had been on the edge of some moment of intimacy that Bucky's
partner both longed for and dreaded. "But you have not told me
yet whether I can go with you."
"You can't. I'm sorry. I'd like first-rate to take you, if you
want to go, but I can't do it. I hate to disappoint you if you're
set on it, but I've got to, kid. Anything else you want I'll be
glad to do."
He added this last because Frank looked so broken. hearted about
it.
"Very well." Swift as a flash came the demand: "Tell me these
heaps of first-rate reasons you were mentioning just now."
Under the sun-tan he flushed. "I reckon I'll have to make another
exception, Curly. Those reasons ain't ripe yet for telling."
"Then if you are--if anything happens--I'll never know them. And
you promised you would tell me--you, who pretend to hate a liar
so," she scoffed.
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