What do you say
if I make that long deferred social call upon you and Lagrange this
evening?"
"I say, good! Mr. Oakley," returned the artist, heartily. "I guess you
know what Lagrange will say."
"You bet I do." He whistled--a low, birdlike note. In answer, a beautiful,
chestnut saddle-horse came out of the chaparral, where it had not been
seen by the painter. "We're going, Max," said the officer, in a
matter-of-fact way. And, as the two men set out, the horse followed, with
a business-like air that brought a word of admiring comment from the
artist.
That Aaron King had won the approval of the Ranger was evidenced by the
mountaineer's inviting himself to supper the camp in the sycamores. The
fact that the officer considerately told Conrad Lagrange only that he had
met the artist with his creel full of trout, and so had been tempted to
accompany him, won the enduring gratitude of the young man. Thus the
circumstances of their meeting introduced each to the other, with
recommendations of peculiar value, and marked the beginning of a genuine
and lasting friendship. But, while, out of delicate regard for the
artist's feelings, he refrained from relating the--to the young
man--embarrassing incident, Brian Oakley could not resist making, at every
opportunity, sly references to their meeting--for the painter's benefit
and his own amusement.
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