"You've been crying,
little pardner. Were you crying on account of me?"
"On account of myself, because I was afraid I had lost you. Oh,
Bucky, isn't it too good to be true?"
The ranger smiled, remembering that he had about fourteen hours
to live, if the Megales faction triumphed. "Good! I should think
it is. Bully! I've been famished to see Curly Haid again."
"And to know that everything is going to come out all right and
that we love each other."
"That's right good hearing and most ce'tainly true on my side of
it. But how do you happen to know it so sure?" he laughed gayly.
"Why, your letter, Bucky. It was the dearest letter. I love it."
"But you weren't to read it for three hours," he pretended to
reprove, holding her at arm's length to laugh at her.
"Wasn't it three hours? It seemed ever so much longer."
"You little rogue, you didn't play fair." And to punish her he
drew her soft, supple body to him in a close embrace, and for the
first time kissed the sweet mouth that yielded itself to him.
"Tell me all about what happened to you," she bade him playfully,
after speech was again in order.
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