“Just so—sure, ma’am.”
“All right. Get me something to eat, please. My grub’s back of my saddle. Make me a little tea. I’m sick, Henry. I’ve got a broken rib, and riding is killing me. But we’ll eat and get on to this Tanburt Ranch. How far is it?”
“Why, ma’am, it’s miles and miles! And ye don’t know th’ way.”
“You do, though. I want to know what’s happened to Doctor Shonto, and you’ve got to go along and help me find out.”
“But, ma’am, I jest can’t. It’ll be rainin’ in th’ mountains in less’n twelve hours. You know I’m a gov’ment official, and—”
“Oh, well—forget it!” exploded Mary. “Make me some tea and I’ll ride on alone if you can show me the way.”
“But, ma’am—”
“Make me some tea, I said—damn it all!”
While he bustled about, hopeful of ridding himself of her after attending to her temporary wants, she watered and fed her horse rolled barley, then threw off the saddle, examined the animal’s back with an expert eye, and put it on the picket rope. Presently she came and sat down on the ground by the fire, cupped her bony chin in one lean hand, and gazed eaglelike into the flames.
“Henry,” she said, “guess what I’m sitting on.”