"No," said the cow-puncher. "Nor now. I'm not Lusk."
"Yu' looked so--so bad, Lin. I never seen yu' look so bad in old days. Wait, now, and I must tell it. I wished to laugh in her face and say, 'What do you know about love?' So I walked in. Lin, she does love yus!"
"Yes," breathed McLean.
"She was sittin' back in her room at Separ. Not the ticket-office, but--"
"I know," the cow-puncher said. His eyes were burning.
"It's snug, the way she has it. 'Good-afternoon,' I says. 'Is this Miss Jessamine Buckner?'"
At his sweetheart's name the glow in Lin's eyes seemed to quiver to a flash.
"And she spoke pleasant to me--pleasant and gay-like. But a woman can tell sorrow in a woman's eyes. And she asked me would I rest in her room there, and what was my name. 'They tell me you claim to know
