"Oh, I am so sorry! That is, I don't mean I am sorry Dave thrashed him—if he deserved it—but I am sorry that I—I went out with him, and that I—I started a correspondence with him. I thought he was nice, by his general looks."
"Oh, he can make himself look well, when he dresses up," said Roger. "And he can act the gentleman on the outside. But if you get to know him thoroughly you'll find him a different sort."
"I don't wish to know him if he's that kind," answered Laura, quickly. "But I thought he was all right, especially as he was the son of the owner of the next ranch. I am sorry now I ever spoke to him."
"And you have been writing to him?" asked Dave. "I thought you said you had met him only a few days before you came away?"
"So I did. But he wanted me to buy something for him in Chicago—a lens for his camera, and asked me to write from there, and I did. And, just for fun, I sent him two letters I wrote on the train—along with some letters to Belle and some other folks I know. I did it to pass the time,—so I wouldn't know how long it was taking me to get here. It was foolish to do so, and it will teach me a lesson to be careful about writing in the future."
"I'm sorry you wrote to him," answered Dave, soberly. But how sorry he was to be, and how