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Show 3 Third 3 Richest Girl jJ By Richard H. Wilkinson TF IT had happened back in West-1 West-1 Chester or most anywhere in the world except here on the edge of a high mesa at the rim of Death Valley it would have made the front pages of every newspaper in the country. The rending public would have been delighted. This vsas explainable, for Joan Robert was the third richest girl in the United 1 States, and what- 3- Ml'nUte ever happened to P. ,. her was news. If NCtlOn the reporters had ' been on hand that day she had her face slapped, the telegraph wires would have hummed. hum-med. If they had known that the man who slapped her face was a cowhand, editorial offices would have been thrown into a shambles. Joan Roberts and Lanky Andrews, who was the cowboy, had ridden away from the Wagon Wheel ranch that afternoon with the Idea of watching the sunset from the rim of Howling Coyote Mesa. This was not the first time they had ridden off alone together. At first Joan thought Lanky's attitude of deference was a pose, but later she decided he was acting quite natural. The discovery delighted her. Casually she had observed Lanky Andrews without appearing appear-ing to do so. She registered the fact that he was a good deal more handsome than you noticed no-ticed at first glance. Nothing about his manner or what he said was affected. Casually, too, she made Inquiries about him and learned, to her astonishment, that he owned a Harvard diploma and a small cattle cat-tle ranch down on the Mojave. T-T fr-oniinrit riie intn iYin i e ;rt with Lanky, coupled with the knowledge she had acquired gave Joan, so to speak, a new lease on life. Up to now her general outlook out-look was bitter. She trusted no one. She hated people who posed. Lanky Andrews, without knowing It, gradually changed all that. SO Joan prolonged her visit and demanded Lanky's services more and more. She tried to be nice to him, tried to give the Impression Im-pression that she appreciated what he was doing for her. But Lanky remained the same. He was a good dude wrangler. He was dependable, kind, thoughtful, courteous, but never personal. That is, he was never personal until the evening they stood on the edge of Howling Coyote Mesa and watched the sun ease down into the desert. Without turning her head Joan said: "It's lovely!" And Lanky Andrews, unexpectedly and without warning, turned to her and said: "That sunset's a washout compared to you." And he kissed her as effectively as Joan had ever been kissed. XTOW LANKY was acting like the men Joan knew and understood. un-derstood. She acted on impulse. She slapped his face. "Why you" he began and slapped her face, a resounding crack. Joan stared at him, mouth open, cheeks white. "How dare you!" "By the same right you dare to slap me," Lanky said easily. "You-you-apparently, Mr. Andrews, An-drews, you don't know who I am. r f i Lanky Andrews kissed Joan j as effectively as she had ever been kissed. I'm the third richest girl in the United States!" : "So what? I'm the best dude I wrangler anywhere around. I'm just as human as you. Just because you ve got more dough than ' I doesn g.ve you any more rights or make me any l,ss feeling ' "Why, you vou." "Wen, what? Can't you think of anything to say? 0f course voU Snnk"Tlme yU tew This time Joan didn't -thin, She mere,ytV ?hr She was conscious of onlv thought, one feeling. 0nc might not kiss her aeair bad to be satisfied with the resu't They were never to'rl .,, . |