he had a weakness for. So far she was inwardly elated with the success of her machinations.
"You wouldn't make much of a hit as a guide for lady tourists," remarked Janey, after Randolph had shown her the several trenches he had dug, some bits of pottery, dry as powder, and the ruined walls.
"On the contrary, I was a decided success for the party of schoolteachers who visited me here last summer," declared Randolph.
"Oh. Then I have some inhibitory effect upon you," remarked Janey.
"Probably. I don't seem to care a--er--anything about archaeology, geology, theology, or any other kind of ology," returned Randolph, ruefully.
"I'm sorry. I must not tax your mental powers so severely," said Janey.
"You think you're being sarcastic. But as a matter of fact you have taxed all my powers to the limit. Powers of patience, resistance, faith--and I don't know what all--"
"What a dreadful person I am!" interposed Janey, really in earnest. "Please, if you can't forget it, at least you needn't rub it in... Where do you expect to uncover this buried pueblo? Dad said you had set your heart on discovering it."
"You don't care two whoops for any ruin--unless it is the ruin of a man."
"Maybe I didn't at first. But I do now. Can't you credit me with change or growth or something worth while?"
"I don't know what to think about you," he returned, almost dejectedly.
"Assuredly you don't. Well, I'm quite capable of coming out here and fmding that ruin for you."
"Please don't. I'm perfectly miserable now," he retorted, grimly. But there was a light in his eyes that belied his words. Janey knew he was saying to himself he must not have faith in dreams.
"It would mean so much to you--fmding this pueblo?"
"Yes. There's only one thing that could mean more."
"I don't suppose I'd look very well digging around in this dirt," mused Janey. "But as you haven't any use for me in up-to-date evening clothes perhaps you might like me all dusty and red and hot. So here goes."
Janey began to clamber down into the deepest trench, and when she got up to her shoulders she grasped the pick.
"Miss Endicott, can't you be serious?" burst out Randolph. "You're not a bit funny. And that talk about me--"
"I'm serious about making you admire me, at least," laughed Janey, brandishing the pick.
"Please come out of there. You're just soiling your clothes."
"Nope. I'm going to dig," rejoined Janey, nonchalantly. "Quien sabe? I may have to marry an archaeologist someday."
"Come out of there," called Randolph, peremptorily.
Janey began to dig in the red earth. She dragged up stones, and presently what looked very much like a human bone.
"Ugh! I declare. What's that thing?" ejaculated Janey.
"It's a leg-bone, of course. You're digging in a grave. I told you that."
"You didn't," retorted Janey.
"Never mind about that. You come out of there."
"Mr. Randolph, you might send me to my own grave, but you can't make me get out of this one."
As she brandished the pick again he reached down to grasp it. Janey held on. Randolph slipped his grip down the handle until he caught her gloved hands. Whereupon he forced the pick from her and dragged her, not at all gently, up out of the trench.
He let go of her rather abruptly, probably because of the look she gave him; and Janey's impetus, being considerable, caused her to stumble. It was a little downhill on that side. She fell right upon Randolph who caught her in his arms. The awkwardness of her action made Janey more indignant than ever. Her sombrero fell off and her hair covered her eyes. She raised her face from his shoulder and sought to catch her balance. Suddenly, Randolph bent to kiss her full on the lips.
Chapter 4
Janey broke away from Phil and started back. For a moment she was too conscious of unfamiliar and disturbing agitations to remember that she had adopted the role of actress.
"Janey!--Miss Endicott!" stammered the young archaeologist. "I--I didn't mean that. I must have been out of my head. Forgive
"You wouldn't make much of a hit as a guide for lady tourists," remarked Janey, after Randolph had shown her the several trenches he had dug, some bits of pottery, dry as powder, and the ruined walls.
"On the contrary, I was a decided success for the party of schoolteachers who visited me here last summer," declared Randolph.
"Oh. Then I have some inhibitory effect upon you," remarked Janey.
"Probably. I don't seem to care a--er--anything about archaeology, geology, theology, or any other kind of ology," returned Randolph, ruefully.
"I'm sorry. I must not tax your mental powers so severely," said Janey.
"You think you're being sarcastic. But as a matter of fact you have taxed all my powers to the limit. Powers of patience, resistance, faith--and I don't know what all--"
"What a dreadful person I am!" interposed Janey, really in earnest. "Please, if you can't forget it, at least you needn't rub it in... Where do you expect to uncover this buried pueblo? Dad said you had set your heart on discovering it."
"You don't care two whoops for any ruin--unless it is the ruin of a man."
"Maybe I didn't at first. But I do now. Can't you credit me with change or growth or something worth while?"
"I don't know what to think about you," he returned, almost dejectedly.
"Assuredly you don't. Well, I'm quite capable of coming out here and fmding that ruin for you."
"Please don't. I'm perfectly miserable now," he retorted, grimly. But there was a light in his eyes that belied his words. Janey knew he was saying to himself he must not have faith in dreams.
"It would mean so much to you--fmding this pueblo?"
"Yes. There's only one thing that could mean more."
"I don't suppose I'd look very well digging around in this dirt," mused Janey. "But as you haven't any use for me in up-to-date evening clothes perhaps you might like me all dusty and red and hot. So here goes."
Janey began to clamber down into the deepest trench, and when she got up to her shoulders she grasped the pick.
"Miss Endicott, can't you be serious?" burst out Randolph. "You're not a bit funny. And that talk about me--"
"I'm serious about making you admire me, at least," laughed Janey, brandishing the pick.
"Please come out of there. You're just soiling your clothes."
"Nope. I'm going to dig," rejoined Janey, nonchalantly. "Quien sabe? I may have to marry an archaeologist someday."
"Come out of there," called Randolph, peremptorily.
Janey began to dig in the red earth. She dragged up stones, and presently what looked very much like a human bone.
"Ugh! I declare. What's that thing?" ejaculated Janey.
"It's a leg-bone, of course. You're digging in a grave. I told you that."
"You didn't," retorted Janey.
"Never mind about that. You come out of there."
"Mr. Randolph, you might send me to my own grave, but you can't make me get out of this one."
As she brandished the pick again he reached down to grasp it. Janey held on. Randolph slipped his grip down the handle until he caught her gloved hands. Whereupon he forced the pick from her and dragged her, not at all gently, up out of the trench.
He let go of her rather abruptly, probably because of the look she gave him; and Janey's impetus, being considerable, caused her to stumble. It was a little downhill on that side. She fell right upon Randolph who caught her in his arms. The awkwardness of her action made Janey more indignant than ever. Her sombrero fell off and her hair covered her eyes. She raised her face from his shoulder and sought to catch her balance. Suddenly, Randolph bent to kiss her full on the lips.
Chapter 4
Janey broke away from Phil and started back. For a moment she was too conscious of unfamiliar and disturbing agitations to remember that she had adopted the role of actress.
"Janey!--Miss Endicott!" stammered the young archaeologist. "I--I didn't mean that. I must have been out of my head. Forgive
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