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 was no help for it. The long-tailed coat was in Cottonwood, in the keeping of Mrs. Goodloe at the Woodbine Hotel, and it might be many a long day, he thought, before it would grace his back again.

"We've been lookin' all morning for Sallie McCoy and her mother," Mrs. Duncan said. "They promised the girls they'd come over to-day, but I guess they didn't get an early start."

"They used to be neighbors of ours," the Miss Duncan near Texas explained, nodding her pretty, fair head to indicate the location in a general way. "Their ranch was down* the creek about seven or eight or nine miles."

"Yes, it was ten or 'leven or twelve," said her mother, laughing over the indirect description. "A body never would get anywheres if they had to go by you tellin' 'em the road, Naomi. Them girls"—to Texas—"has been away to school back in Lawrence so long they've plumb got out of the ways of this country."

"They sure speak well for the schools of Lawrence, anyway, ma'am."

Texas spoke with such forceful warmth that the simple compliment seemed something altogether grand.

"Why, mother, we've been coming home for three months every summer," the other one protested, as