"It must have been two weeks after this that a mover's wagon stopped
near the creek within half a mile of the track, and hobbled horses soon
began to 'rustle' grass, and the smoke of a camp-fire hunted the clouds.
"We saw this sort of thing often, and I didn't any more than glance at
it; but after supper I sauntered down by the engine, smoking and
thinking of Rachel Rokesby, when I noticed a woman walking towards me,
pail in hand.
"She had on a sunbonnet that hid her face and she got within ten feet
of me before she spoke--she asked for a pail of drinking-water from the
tank--the creek was muddy from a recent rain.
"Just as soon as she spoke, I knew it was Rachel, but I controlled
myself, for others were within hearing. I walked with her to the engine
and got the water; I purposely drew the pail full, which she promptly
spilled, and I offered to carry it for her.
"The crew watched us walk away and I heard some of them mention 'mash,'
but I didn't care, I wanted a word with my girl.
"When we were out of earshot, she asked without looking up:
"'Well, old coolness, are you all right?'
"'You bet! darling.
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