it's too far, even to El Oro. I'll find a way to get word to some one that will come for you. Will you wait here until noon?"
Nan shook her head, but Mrs. Gallagher advised:
"It is better that way, señorita. It is too far for you to walk."
"We will wait, then," Nan unwillingly consented, "but"—acidly—"do not jeopardize your job."
Chilled, disappointed, she watched him ride away, her own predicament for the moment forgotten in the keen realization that in spite of his attractions Ben Evans was hopelessly plebeian.
As the hour approached twelve and the promised assistance did not arrive. Nan's uneasiness and impatience increased. She grew sceptical even of the sincerity of his intentions, but in this she wronged him, as she was glad to know when Mrs. Grallagher, doing sentinel duty from the pinnacle of the wood-pile, scrambled from her perch with the cheering news that some one was coming.
"A woman, I think; yes, an Americana leading two horses."
