“Oh, I expect I know some of your men,” Robin said. “But I wasn’t thinkin’ of that. It just struck me that it’s kind of funny to come across you. Bob Terry is a cousin of mine.”
“The dickens he is! Then we’re kin by marriage. You’re a Texan too, then?”
Robin shook his head.
“My father was. I was born in the Black Hills; grew up there.”
“Wonder you never showed up round the Long S.” Stevens gazed at him. “Or are you on your own here?”
“Uh-uh. Punchin’ cows. I was with Bob one season over on the Big Dry.”
“You know my sister, then?”
“Oh sure. Liked her a heap, too.”
Young Stevens smiled at May and Robin impartially.
“You’ve heard about Bob Terry chasing all the way from the Panhandle to kill young Joe Stevens, haven’t you?”