"But, Stan," she said, with a pretty air of disappointment, "I thought
it was all going to be so different. Why, except for the mountains, and
those poor Indians over there, this might all be in some little town
back home. I thought there would be cowboys riding about everywhere,
with long hair and big hats, and guns and things."
Stanford and his friends who were standing near laughed.
"I fear, Mrs. Manning," remarked Mr. Richards, one of Prescott's bank
presidents, "that Stanford has been telling you wild west stories. The
West moves as well as the East, you know. We are becoming civilized."
"Indeed you are, Mr. Richards," Helen returned. "And I don't think I
like it a bit. It's not fair to your poor eastern sight-seers, like
myself."
"If you are really so anxious to see a sure enough cowboy, look over
there," said Stanford, and pointed across the street.
"Where?" demanded Helen eagerly.
"There," smiled Stanford, "the dark-faced chap near that automobile
standing by the curb; the machine with the pretty girl at the wheel.
See! he is stopping to talk with the girl."
"What! That nice looking man, dressed just like thousands of men that we
might see any day on the streets of Cleveland?" cried Helen.
Pages:
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292