"
"Of course it's business," he replied. "Precious little else I get." They
were dining alone, at home, and he motioned the butler to refill his glass
with champagne.
She wondered at his suggestion. There must be something behind it. But as a
matter of fact she was tired of Long Island, and if she could kill a few
weeks--maybe a few months--in the West, she would willingly go.
"Sturgis telegraphed me that there was a big possibility of a new vein of
oil down on the border," Pell was telling her. "Some important men want to
talk things over with me at Bisbee. I want to get started in a day or two.
Don't take your maid. It's a rough country, but you'll be all right. Just
old clothes. You can ride a lot, so bring your habit. I'll be busy most of
the time; but I think you'll like the trip. Never been down that way, have
you?"
"No," she said. "And I've always wanted to go."
"Not afraid of bandits?" he laughed, sipping his champagne. "It's right
next door to Mexico, you know. Have some swell times down there, they say."
She laughed too. "How exciting," she said. She grew almost jubilant at the
prospect of the journey. She knew she would probably be "shown off" to the
important men; and that touched her vanity--what little she had left by
now.
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