“Hold ’em,” Sutherland said briefly. “Gather all you can find. Outside of that use your own judgment. I want to nail that murderin’ thief—both of ’em.”
“I guess that’s all, then,” Robin said after a brief silence. “I want to speak to May like I promised. Then I’ll ride.”
“You got to promise me you won’t be seein’ her on the quiet,” Sutherland persisted. “You’re young an’ you’re good-lookin’. I don’t know how much more there is to you.”
“If there was no more to me than that,” Robin retorted, “I wouldn’t be runnin’ a round-up for you.”
“You might be a top cowman an’ still be darned poor timber for a husband,” Sutherland observed. “A girl’s judgment don’t go far. I got to know you better.”
“Hell, a fellow would think it was you I aimed to marry, not your girl,” Robin sputtered, “the way you want to be so sure I’m all wool and a yard wide.”
“It’s all in the family,” Sutherland grinned slightly, for the first time in their conversation. “I think a heap of that kid. I don’t aim for her to take no chances if I can help it. Is it a promise?”
“Yes,” Robin agreed. “I know I have to attend to my work. But seein’ me once in a while is more her affair than yours, I think. If May wants to have it that way, yes. And only as long as she wants to have it that way.”
Sutherland fished a cigar out of his pocket, bit off the end with utmost deliberation.
“I’ll give you ten minutes with her,” he said. “You tell her what I said.”