“He ain’t no more’n a kid, Miss. That’s it; he’s jest a tenderfoot kid.”
“A boy, you mean?” queried Ruth, anxiously.
“Not much older than that yere whitehead ye brought with yuh,” said Ike, beginning to grin now that he had become a bit more familiar with the Eastern girl, and pointing at Bob Steele. “And he ain’t no bigger than him.”
“You wouldn’t let your boys injure a young fellow like that, would you?” cried Ruth. “It wouldn’t be right.”
“I dunno how I’m goin’ to stop ’em from mussin’ him up a whole lot if they chances acrost him,” said Ike, slowly. “He’d ought to be shut up, so he had.”
“Granted. But he ought not to be abused. Another thing, Ike—I’ll tell you a secret.”
“Uh-huh?” grunted the surprised foreman.
“I want to see that young man awfully!” said Ruth. “I want to talk with him——”
“Sufferin’ snipes!” gasped Ike, becoming so greatly interested that he forgot it was a girl he was talking with. “What you wanter see that looney critter for?”
“Because I’m greatly interested in the Tintacker Mine, and they say this young fellow usually sticks to that locality,” replied Ruth, smiling on the big cow puncher. “Don’t you think I can learn to ride well enough to travel that far before we return to the East?”