"Blue somethin' or other," replied Roy.
"Tom, has my new mustang a name?" asked Bo, turning to the cowboy.
"Shore."
"What then?"
"Wal, I named him Blue-Bo," answered Las Vegas, with a smile.
"Blue-Boy?"
"Nope. He's named after you. An' I chased him, roped him, broke him all myself."
"Very well. Blue-Bo he is, then.... And he's a wonderful darling horse. Oh, Nell, just look at him.... Tom, I can't thank you enough."
"Reckon I don't want any thanks," drawled the cowboy. "But see heah, Bo, you shore got to live up to conditions before you ride him."
"What!" exclaimed Bo, who was startled by his slow, cool, meaning tone, of voice.
Helen delighted in looking at Las Vegas then. He had never appeared to better advantage. So cool, careless, and assured! He seemed master of a situation in which his terms must be accepted. Yet he might have been actuated by a cowboy motive beyond the power of Helen to divine.
"Bo Rayner," drawled Las Vegas, "thet blue mustang will be yours, an' you can ride him--when you're MRS. TOM CARMICHAEL!"
Never had he spoken a softer, more drawling speech, nor gazed at Bo more mildly. Roy seemed thunderstruck. Helen endeavored heroically to restrain her delicious, bursting glee. Bo's wide eyes stared at her lover--darkened--dilated. Suddenly she left the mustang to confront the cowboy where he lounged on the porch steps.
"Do you mean that?" she cried.
"Shore do."
"Bah! It's only a magnificent bluff," she retorted. "You're only in fun. It's your--your darned nerve!"
"Why, Bo," began Las Vegas, reproachfully. "You shore know I'm not the four-flusher kind. Never got away with a bluff in my life! An' I'm jest in daid earnest aboot this heah."
All the same, signs were not wanting in his mobile face that he was almost unable to restrain his mirth.
Helen realized then that Bo saw through the cowboy--that the ultimatum was only one of his tricks.
"It IS a bluff and I CALL you!" declared Bo, ringingly.
Las Vegas suddenly awoke to consequences. He essayed to speak, but she was so wonderful then, so white and blazing-eyed, that he was stricken mute.
"I'll ride Blue-Bo this afternoon," deliberately stated the girl.
Las Vegas had wit enough to grasp her meaning, and he seemed about to collapse.
"Very well, you can make me Mrs. Tom Carmichael to-day--this morning--just before dinner.... Go get a preacher to marry us--and make yourself look a more presentable bridegroom--UNLESS IT WAS ONLY A BLUFF!"