But the girl did not heed him. "Last of all, there's another reason," she went on. "I don't know why I shouldn't speak it, as well as think it, for it's the greatest of all. I'm a young woman. I won't remain such long. I don't want to be a spinster. I know I'm not supposed to say these things, but why not? I want to meet men, men of my own class, my parents' class, men who know something besides the weight of a steer and the value of a bronco,--some man I could respect and care for." Again she turned directly to her companion. "Do you wonder I want to change, that I want to leave these prairies, much as I like them?"
It was long before Ben Blair spoke. He scarcely stirred in his seat; then of a sudden, rousing, he threw his leg back over the saddle.
"No," he said slowly, "I don't wonder--looking at things your way. It's all in the point of view. But perhaps yours is wrong, maybe you don't think of the other side of that life. There usually is another side to everything, I've noticed." He glanced ahead. A half-mile on, the blackboard had stopped, and Scotty was standing up on the seat and motioning the laggards energetically.
"I think we'd better dust up a little. Your father seems to have struck something interesting."
Florence seemed inclined to linger, but Scotty's waving cap was insistent, and they galloped ahead.
They found Rankin sitting upon the wagon seat, smoking impassively as usual; but the Englishman was upon the ground holding the two hounds by the collars. Behind the big compound lenses his eyes were twinkling excitedly, and he was smiling like a boy.
"Look out there!" he exclaimed with a jerk of his head, "over to the west. We all but missed him! Are you ready?"
They all looked and saw, perhaps thirty rods away, a grayish-white jack-rabbit, distinct by contrast with the brown earth. The hounds had also caught sight of the game and pulled lustily at their collars.
Instantly Florence was all excitement. "Of course we're ready! No, wait a second, until I see about my saddle." She dismounted precipitately. "Tighten the cinch a bit, won't you, Ben? I don't mind a tumble, but it might interfere at a critical moment." She put her foot in his extended hand, and sprang back into her seat. "Now, I'm ready. Come on, Ben! Let them go, papa! Be in at the finish if you can!" and, a second behind the hounds, she was away. Simultaneously, the great jack-rabbit, scenting danger, leaped forward, a ball of animate rubber, bounding farther and farther as he got under full motion, speeding away toward the blue distance.