"There he is all right, as big as life; finest man
that ever lived. Look, Helen." He returned the glasses to his wife "If
you want to see a genuine western lawyer, a scholar and a gentleman,
take a look at that six-foot-three or four down there in the gray
clothes."
"I see him," said Helen, "but there seems to be some thing the matter;
there he goes back to the machines. Now he's laying down the law to the
drivers."
"They won't put over anything on Morris," said Stanford admiringly.
Then a deep, kindly voice at his elbow said, "Howdy, Manning! Ain't you
got time to speak to your old friends?"
Stanford whirled and, with a glad exclamation, grasped the Dean's
outstretched hand. Still holding fast to the cattleman, he again turned
to his wife, who was looking down at them with smiling interest. "Helen,
this is Mr. Baldwin--the Dean, you know."
"Indeed, I ought to know the Dean," she cried, giving him her hand.
"Stanford has told me so much about you that I am in love with you
already."
"And I"--retorted the Dean, looking up at her with his blue eyes
twinkling approval--"I reckon I've always been in love with you.
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