A half-dozen times he managed to slip over for a few words with Alice
Marcum--a bit of explanation of a coming event, or a comment upon the
fine points of a completed one, until unconsciously the girl's interest
centred upon the dashing figure to an extent that she found herself
following his every movement, straining forward when his supremacy hung
in the balance, keenly disappointed when another wrested the honours
from him, and jubilantly exultant at his victories. So engrossed was
she in fallowing the fortunes of her knight that she failed to notice
the growing disapproval of Endicott, who sat frowning and silent by her
side. Failed, also, to notice that as Purdy's attentions waxed more
obvious she herself became the object of many a glance, and lip to ear
observation from the occupants of the close-drawn vehicles.
It was while Mayor Maloney was announcing the roping contest and
explaining that the man who "roped, throw'd, an' hog-tied" his steer in
the least number of seconds, would be the winner, that the girl's
thoughts turned to the cowpuncher who earlier in the day had so
skilfully demonstrated his ability with the lariat.
In vain her eyes sought the faces of the cowboys. She turned to Purdy
who had edged his horse close beside the lumber pile.
"Where is your friend--the one who raced with you for my handkerchief?"
she asked.
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