Here comes Keith. Brace up, sis, and be pleasant."
Beatrice glanced casually at the galloping figure of Dick's neighbor,
and frowned.
"You mustn't flirt with Keith," Dick admonished gravely. "He's a good
fellow, and as square a man as I know; but you ought to know he's got
the reputation of being a hard man to know. Lots of girls have tried to
flirt and make a fool of him, and wound up with their feelings hurt
worse than his were."
"Is that a dare?" Beatrice threw up her chin with a motion Dick knew of
old.
"Not on your life! You better leave him alone; one or the other of you
would get the worst of it, and I'd hate to see either of you feeling
bad. As I said before, he's a bad man to fool with."
"I don't consider him particularly dangerous--or interesting. He's not
half as nice as Sir Redmond." Beatrice spoke as though she meant what
she said, and Dick had no chance to argue the point, for Keith pulled up
beside them at that moment.
Beatrice seemed inclined to silence, and paid more attention to the
landscape than she did to the conversation, which was mostly about range
conditions, and the scanty water supply, and the drought.
She was politely interested in Keith's ranch, and if she clung
persistently to her society manner, why, her society manner was very
pleasing, if somewhat unsatisfying to a fellow fairly drunk with her
winsomeness.
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