“I ranges on the Sundown slope,” he replied shortly.
“They have sheep-camps over there, then?”
Again the slurring insinuation pricked him.
“Oh, I can twist a rope and ride a horse fast enough to keep warm.”
“So?”—the inflection was tantalizing. “Was that horse gentled for your grandmother?”
He eyed her angrily, but checked the reply on his tongue.
“Say, girl, can you tell me where I can find that fat Injun woman’s tepee who lives around here?”
“You mean my mother?”
He looked at her with new interest.
“Does she live in a log cabin on a crick?”