Ain't that right, Paloma?"
"Yes, father."
Paloma Jones had developed wonderfully since Dave Law had last
seen her. She had grown into a most wholesome and attractive young
woman, with an unusually capable manner, and an honest, humorous
pair of brown eyes. During dinner she did her part with a grace
that made watching her a pleasure, and the Ranger found it a great
treat to sit at her table after his strenuous scouting days in the
mesquite.
"I'm glad to hear Jonesville is prosperous," he told his host.
"And they say you're in everything."
"That's right; and prosperity's no name for it. Every-body wants
Blaze to have a finger in the pie. I'm interested in the bank, the
sugar-mill, the hardware-store, the ice-plant--Say, that ice-
plant's a luxury for a town this size. D'you know what I made out
of it last year?"
"I've no idea."
"Twenty-seven thousand dollars!" The father of Jonesville spoke
proudly, impressively, and then through habit called upon his
daughter for verification. "Didn't I, Paloma?"
Miss Paloma's answer was unexpected, and came with equal emphasis:
"No, you didn't, father. The miserable thing lost money."
Blaze was only momentarily dismayed.
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