"Did you get this partner's name?" asked Oliver.
"Le's see—what was the name Dad said?"
"Smeed?" asked Oliver.
"That's it. Dave Smeed. No—Dan Smeed. This Smeed lived with the tribe afterwards, it seems, but Selden and his girl beat it, accordin' to the rules, and—"
"Sh!" warned Oliver. "Here comes Old Man Selden now."
The old monarch of the hills strode straight up to them, rowels whirring, chaps whistling.
"Howdy, Mr. Drew—howdy!" he boomed. "Howdy, Tamroy." He extended a horny hand to each.
"Some dance, as they say—some dance," he went on admiringly, and there was almost a smile on his stern features. "The boys was bettin' on how it would come out. The odds was ag'in ye, Mr. Drew. But I told 'em ye'd hold out. I been through the mill myself. Might as well own up, since everybody knows it now—and that I danced to a fare-you-well, but fell down hard. When ye gonta' pull yer freight, Mr. Drew?"
"I thought of riding home today," said Oliver.
"I was just talkin' to Jess'my," Selden continued. "Her and me concluded this here'd be a good time to invite ye over to get acquainted. Can't ye ride to Poison Oak Ranch with us just as well as ye can ride on home?" He tried to grin, but the effort seemed to cause pain.