“Supposin’ you met this black fellow—he must be black to be a horse thief, you know—would you be afraid?”
She laughed. “I don’t know. Mr. Holman gave me a pistol with which to protect myself; but I don’t think that I’d use it.”
“Why?”
“Well, because: First, I’d kind of like to know a real Western horse thief—he must be wonderful to keep living, if the West is what they say it is—and second, because I don’t believe that any girl, if she is a real girl, has need to be afraid of a mere man. Most any man can be talked into good humor if you just know how. I’d like the chance of subduing a real horse thief, bare-handed.”
Certainly she was subduing Billy. The cowboy was ready to give up his homestead; but he wanted, first, to get at the motive of Holman. Surely the big man must have known that Billy would return at the expiration of his leave of absence. Low as he held him he did not think that the cattle king would stoop so low as to deceive this girl. Perhaps—the thought startled—perhaps he had been able to so manipulate the land office that the land had been thrown open to entry. Mistakes are sometimes made. A clerical error would be very convenient to Holman.
“When did you file on this land?”
“About a month ago. Why? Is there anything wrong?”
“Oh, no. Only I am a cowboy and have lived in this country all my life. I know a great deal about homesteads. For instance, it is sometimes convenient to have witnesses who knew you at, or about, the time of entry. Have you received your notice of allowance?”
“It came about three days ago. Do you wish to see it? Shall I get it?”
“Well, it wouldn’t hurt if I took a peep at it.”