She liked his face. It was rich and warm with healthy blood, and expressive of both eagerness and bashfulness. Lucy was not going to forget his remark, “Sam, she’s a looker!” and she gazed as demurely as possible into his blue eyes. It took only one glance to convince her that he was of the type Mrs. Lynn had praised so heartily. Lucy also saw that he was quite overcome.

“Mettlesome mustang?” echoed Lucy, gazing from Mr. Jenks to Sam. “Does that mean anything terrible? I assure you I’m no cowgirl.”

Sam’s shrewd eyes sought her boots and then her gauntlets. “Wal, you’re shore no stranger to a hoss. Buster isn’t a bronc. He’s never pitched with a girl yet. Talk to him some an’ pat him as if you’d no idea a hoss could be mean.”

Lucy did as she was bidden, successfully hiding her nervousness; and it appeared that Buster did not show any viciousness or fear. He had a keen, dark eye, somewhat fiery, but not at all fierce. As he was a small horse, Lucy mounted him easily, to her satisfaction.

“How’s the length of your stirrups?” asked Mr. Jenks.

“Just right, I think,” replied Lucy, standing up in them.

“Wal, I reckon they’re a little long—I mean short,” drawled Sam, approaching.

Lucy was quick to grasp the guile in this young gentleman of the woods. He was as clear as an inch of crystal water. She grasped just as quickly the fact that she was going to have a good deal of fun with these boys. Sam knew her stirrups were all right; what he wanted was a chance to come close to her while she was in the saddle. It was an old cowboy trick.

“Thanks, I’m very comfortable,” she said, smiling at him.

Meanwhile Mr. Jenks had mounted and turned his horse toward the road.

“I never rode this nag,” he said. “Come now, Miss Watson.”

“Teacher, look out she doesn’t run off from you,” called Sam as they started. His voice was full of mirth. “An’, Miss Lucy, that’s shore a regular hoss you’re ridin’.”

Lucy turned in the saddle. “I nearly forgot to thank you, Mr. Johnson. It is good of you to let me ride him.”

She found Buster rather hard to hold in. Before she had followed Mr. Jenks many paces she heard Sam blurt out to his cousin, “Gerd, by golly! it’s shore worth a lot to have Edd Denmeade see that girl ridin’ my best hoss.”

“Haw! Haw!” roared Gerd, and then made a reply Lucy could not distinguish.

Presently she caught up with her guide and together they rode out through the corral.

“Mr. Jenks, did you hear what they said?” inquired Lucy.

“Indeed I did. They’re full of the Old Nick, those boys.