The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1904-10-10
A GIRL FROM WYOMING.

| on. / won't ike MIN. L nate recon-
mended people"
But Jo.' Miss Pendleton put her
head out of the car window and nodded
at the handsome girl in the smart turn
out. "a governors son and red hairi''
she coaxed.
Not the Prince of Pilsen and Ru-
dolph Rassendyl. I've heard nothing
but Guy Wetmore for three weeks, and
I'm sick of him-a pink of perfection, a
prig who wears nose glasses. I'll put
him through his PAGES" She gathered
up the lines.
1 Now, 10, don't get into any of your
western pranks. This isn't Wyoming,
you know, and we really want you to
like each other"
We're not going that way she said,
bringing the horse up snort at a cross
road. You're just like the rest of these
poIy people. Christopher-you move
along in the same old rut. Just be luse
you came down that road to the station
doesn't argue that you are going back.
mean to go down this way and see
what's doing" Wherewith she turned
the equipage. and down the road in the
hot sun they went in the opposite direc-
ton.
house, where a, struggling house party
was trying to keep itself amused till the
lion of the hour should appear and pro-
coed to fall in love with the hostess
Where's the bridge, Christopher?
Why, haven't you got a bridge here?
Don't you have bridges in the east?"
the girls voice inquired of the inert
horse pulled up beside a shallow, spark
ling stream There's the house over
there" pointing the whip across to a
distant pile of red roof and large CHM
neys.
At the touch of the whip the horse
plunged, snorting into the swiftly flow
ing water, houndered on for a pace or
two and stopped, his legs braced, ears
We'll, Christopher. if you aren't
But the horse, snorting viciously,
refused to bulge. Forward. backward,
sidewise, it was all the same.
Well" The whip went into its
stock emphatically. You needn't think
1 am going to sit out here in this creek
all day. You will go across, Christie
pher. See if you don't"
Pins dropping on the leather cush-
ions, ripping open of hooks. rustic of
silk, and the brown golf skirt dropped
about her feet. There was a flash of
little patent feathers. a length of drop
ted and billowy white petticoat as she
vaulted over the wheel and splashed
down into the water.
1t is kind O. cool, Christopher" she
long enough to get used to it. Come
on" Walking around to the head
holding to the shaft, her skirt scarce
ly dipping in the water, she gave a
tug to the hitching strap.
Christopher Don't be silly" she
started on encouragingly.
Snorting, putting, placing one foot
carefully before the other, he follow
ed Across the little stream, up the
bank and on to the sandy road again,
she held the strap taut.
Its pretty wet, Christopher" as he
gave a mighty shake and thrashed his
tail about, "only your old patent leath-
ers won't be ruined She looked rue
fully down at her soaking feet. She
shook the ruff1es of her diminutive
skirt. Wouldn't Aunt Pendleton have
q fit? Gracious!''
She looked up just in time to catch
the end of an amused glance from the
blue eyes of a young fellow in gray
golf shirt, who was walking leisurely
away with his head turned in the
direction of the red tiles. He had
wonderful red hair -
She turned and scrambled precipi-
lately into the cart. Picking up the
lines, she said in "a subdued whisper:
Dear me, Christopher, this isn't
is it?''
The wagon turnout with its flushed
occupant disappeared down the road
toward the red roofs in a cloud of
dust.
"She is such a foolish child, and yet
can't believe anything has hap