“I'd tell a man,” he said, with faint irony.
The Little Doctor gave him a quick, surprised look and went on.
“I liked their playing so much. Mr. Brown was especially good upon the guitar.”
“Y—e-s?”
“Yes, of course. You know yourself, he plays beautifully.”
“Cow-punchers aren't expected to know all these things.” Chip hated himself for replying so, but the temptation mastered him.
“Aren't they? I can't see why not.”
Chip closed his lips tightly to keep in something impolite.
The Little Doctor, puzzled as well as piqued, went straight to the point.
“Why didn't you like Mr. Brown's playing?”