"We were coming down to call on you and now you've spoiled it."
Roger jumped to his feet with a laugh. "I'll go home at once. Come along."
"No, we've got to dress up. It's going to be a regular call," said the child.
"We were coming down about half past four to bring you back to supper with us," said Charley.
Roger was suddenly conscious of the fact that he had a day's beard on his face. He started down the trail, hastily, after retrieving his gun.
"I'll be glad to see you ladies whenever you call," he said, "but I'm not going to promise not to shoot Crazy Dutch if he comes round again."
The call, which was made with due ceremony at the hour mentioned, was a great success. Roger, fresh shaved, and quite recovered from the shock of Von Minden's visit, played host with just enough formality to delight Felicia. Charley was deeply interested in the plans for the Sun Plant. It was the first time Roger had explained his general scheme of solar heating to her and he was surprised by her eager intelligence.
The sun was setting when they started back to the ranch house, with Felicia chatting like a magpie. Roger did the milking and the other chores, by the light of a "bug."
Charley gave them a simple supper, but the beans and bacon, hot biscuit and canned blackberries seemed extraordinarily delicious to Roger. He and Felicia washed the supper dishes while Charley put a batch of bread to rise.
The evening tasks finished, they established themselves before the living-room fire. Roger lighted his pipe.
"Can't I sit up till quarter after eight to-night, Charley?" asked Felicia.
"You wanted to do that last night," replied Charley.
"And you wouldn't let me. Won't you to-night?"
"No, dear."
"Then," great eyes on the implacable face of the alarm clock, "I've only five minutes to sit up. Charley, I can't bear it."
"Oh, yes, you can," said Roger. "Think how awful it would be if you had to go to bed at half-past seven. That's what happened to me when I was your age."
"Didn't your mother love you? I don't see how she could help it. You must have been a cunning boy."
"I was a long-legged, awkward, freckle-faced brat, but she loved me. Mothers are like that."
Felicia nodded understandingly but did not take her eyes from the clock. "There it goes, that nasty little minute hand! I'm sorry I ever learned to tell time."
"Say good night to Roger, Felicia, and run off to bed. There's a dear."
Felicia rose obediently, put her arms around Roger's neck and kissed him. "I don't like a man's kiss, when it tastes of tobacco," she said, "but I suppose I might as well get used to it for when we're married, Roger."