Overland Red | Page 6

and add five. I've roped a lot of po'try
in my time, Miss. Say, are we campin' on your land?"
"No. This is government land, from here to our line up above--the
Moonstone Rancho."
"The Moonstone Rancho?" queried Overland Red, breaking a twig and
feeding the fire.
"Yes. It's named after the cañon. But don't let me keep you from
breakfast."
"Breakfast, eh? That's right! I almost forgot it, talkin' to you. Collie's
got the coffee to boilin'. No, you ain't keepin' us from our breakfast any
that you'd notice. It would take a whole reg'ment of Rurales to keep us
from a breakfast if we seen one runnin' around loose without its pa or
ma."

Louise Lacharme did not smile. This was too real. Here was adventure
with no raconteur's glamour, no bookish gloss. Here was Romance.
Romance unshaven, illiterate, with its coat off making coffee in a
smoke-blackened tomato-can, but Romance nevertheless. That this
romance should touch her life, Louise had not the faintest dream. She
was alone ... but, pshaw! Boyar was grazing near, and besides, she was
not really afraid of the men. She thought she rather liked them, or, more
particularly, the boisterous one who had said his name was Overland
Red.
The tramp gazed at her a moment before he lifted the tomato-can from
the embers. "We know you won't join us, but we're goin' to give you
the invite just the same. And we mean it. Ma'am, if you'll be so kind as
to draw up your chair, us gents'll eat."
"Thank you!" said Louise, and Overland's face brightened at the
good-fellowship in her voice. "Thank you both, but I've had breakfast."
She gazed at the solitary, bubbling, tomato-can coffee-pot of
"second-edition" coffee. There was nothing else to grace the board, or
rather rock. "I'll be right back," she said. "I'll just take off Boyar's bridle.
Here, Boy!" she called. "You'll be able to eat better."
And she ran to the pony. From a saddle-pocket she took her own lunch
of sandwiches and ripe olives wrapped in oiled paper. She delayed her
return to loosen the forward cincha of the saddle and to find the little
stock of cigarette-papers and tobacco that she carried for any chance
rider of the Moonstone who might be without them.
Collie, the boy tramp, glanced up at Overland Red. "I guess she's
gone," he said regretfully.
"You're nutty, Collie. She ain't the kind to sneak off after sayin' she's
comin' back. I know a hoss and a real woman when I see 'em. I was
raised in the West, myself."
The boy Collie was young, sensitive, and he had not been "raised in the
West." He frowned. "Yes, you was raised in the West, and what you

got to show for it?"
"Well, hear the kid!" exclaimed Overland. "Out of the mouth of babes
and saplings! What have I got to show? What have I--! Wha--? Oh, you
go chase a snake! I know a good hoss and a good woman when I see
'em, and I seen both together this morning."
"But what do she want with us bos?" asked the boy.
"S-s-h-h! Why, she's interested in me romantic past, of course. Ain't I
the 'cute little gopher when it comes to the ladies? Fan me, Collie, and
slow music and a beer for one. I'm some lady's-man, sister!"
"You're a bo, the same as me," said the boy.
"S-s-h-h! For the love of Pete, don't you handle that word 'bo' so
careless. It's loaded. It has a jarrin' effect on ears
unattenuated--er--meanin' ears that ain't keyed up to it, as the pote says.
She's comin' back. Fold your napkin. Don't look so blame hungry! Ain't
you got any style?"
"She's the prettiest girl I ever seen," said the boy, hastily swallowing
his share of the hot, insipid coffee.
"Pretty?" whispered Overland, as Louise approached. "She's
thoroughbred. Did you see them eyes? Afraid of nothin', and smilin' at
what might dast to scare her. Not foolish, either. She's wise. And she's
kind and laughin', and not ashamed to talk to us. That's thoroughbred."
Round the rock came Louise, the neat package of sandwiches in one
hand. In the other was the tobacco and cigarette-papers. "I'm going to
have my luncheon," she said. "If you won't object, I'll take a sandwich.
There, I have mine. The rest are for you."
"We had our breakfast," said Overland quickly, "when you was talkin'
to your pony."
Louise glanced at the empty tomato-can. "Well, I'll excuse you for not

waiting for me, but I shall not excuse you from having luncheon with
me. I made these sandwiches myself. Have one. They're really good."
"Oh!" groaned Overland, grimacing. "If I could curry up my language
smooth, like that, I--I guess I'd get deaf listenin'