"Now, Miss Jane, I rode in to tell you that your
herd of white steers is down on the slope behind them big ridges.
An' I seen somethin' goin' on that'd be mighty interestin' to
you, if you could see it. Have you a field-glass?"
"Yes, I have two glasses. I'll get them and ride out with you.
Wait, Lassiter, please," she said, and hurried within. Sending
word to Jerd to saddle Black Star and fetch him to the court, she
then went to her room and changed to the riding-clothes she
always donned when going into the sage. In this male attire her
mirror showed her a jaunty, handsome rider. If she expected some
little need of admiration from Lassiter, she had no cause for
disappointment. The gentle smile that she liked, which made of
him another person, slowly overspread his face.
"If I didn't take you for a boy!" he exclaimed. "It's powerful
queer what difference clothes make. Now I've been some scared of
your dignity, like when the other night you was all in white but
in this rig--"
Black Star came pounding into the court, dragging Jerd half off
his feet, and he whistled at Lassiter's black. But at sight of
Jane all his defiant lines seemed to soften, and with tosses of
his beautiful head he whipped his bridle.
"Down, Black Star, down," said Jane.
He dropped his head, and, slowly lengthening, he bent one
foreleg, then the other, and sank to his knees.
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