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Page 12
The cowboys, as the Overland girls observed, were saddled up as if
they too were going along, but she supposed they were starting out
on some duty connected with their work. All but two of them
mounted, and there followed an exhibition of prancing and bucking
that furnished amusement and interest to Grace and her friends.
Bud and a companion finally rode up before Grace and dismounted,
the former removing his sombrero and approaching her awkwardly.
Glancing inquiringly at Mr. Lang, Grace saw that he was smiling.
"Bud has something on his mind. I reckon he wants to unload, Mrs.
Gray," announced the guide.
"Yes, Bud?" smiled Grace encouragingly. "What is it?"
"It's yourself, Miss. The bunch here reckoned as I, bein' gifted
with the knack of gab, it fer me to speak for 'em. They're tongue-
tied when there's a woman on the premises."
"What is it the 'bunch' wishes you to say to me?" asked the
Overland girl.
"They seen you bust the black bronc' this morning, and bein' as no
female woman ever pulled off a stunt like it in these parts, they
reckoned it might not make you mad if they told you you was all to
the good."
"Thank you--thank you all." Grace waved a hand and smiled at the
eager faces of the cowboys who, lined up on their ponies, just to
the rear of Bud and a companion, were eagerly hanging on Bud's
words, but not taking their gaze from Grace Harlowe's face for an
instant.
"The bunch reckoned, too, that bein' a champeen mebby you'd take a
little present from 'em. I ain't much on spreadin' the dough, even
if I have some gab," added Bud, floundering for the rest of his
speech.
"Bud, I'm just as excited as you are, and, were I in your place, I
should not know what to say next," comforted Grace seriously.
"What is it that the 'bunch' wished you to give to me?"
Bud reached a hand behind him, whereupon his companion placed
something in it. Emma Dean whispered to Nora that it looked like a
blacksnake all coiled up and ready to jump.
"This here," resumed the cowboy, holding up the coil that had been
passed to him, "is a real Mexican lariat, made by a Greaser, but
real horsehair, and warranted not to kink or to miss in the hands
of a lady. The bunch reckons they'd like to give it to you to
remember 'em by," concluded Bud, stepping forward and handing the
lariat to Grace.
"Bud--boys, I don't need anything to make me remember you, but of
course I will accept your thoughtful gift. I never threw a rope
and could not hit the side of a barn with one, but now that you
have given me this beautiful piece of rope I am going to learn to
throw it. Mr. Lang, will you teach me how to rope--to throw the
lasso?"
The guide nodded.
"If we come back this way, I hope I shall see all you boys here,
and I will then throw the rope for you and you shall tell me
whether or not I am a hopeless tenderfoot."
"You ain't no tenderfoot already," called a cowboy.
"Thank you. Good-bye, all." Grace waved her sombrero, and, blowing
a kiss to her husband, clucked to her pony and was off at a
gallop, following in the wake of Hi Lang, who had already started
on.
The others of the Overland party swung in and the party began its
journey. They had gone but a short distance when, hearing shouts
to the rear, they turned to discover the cowboys racing toward
them in a cloud of dust.
"What do they want, Mr. Lang!" called Grace, urging her pony up to
him.
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