"How th' devil do I know!" Pete blazed, indignantly. "I wasn't keeping track of no cayuse after they got th' house!"
"It's down there on th' hill—see it?" volunteered Johnny. "Shall I get it?" he asked, grinning at the disgruntled Pete.
"Yes; an' strip th' fixings off her cayuse while yo're about it—lively."
Johnny vaulted into his saddle and loped down the hill, shortly returning with Mary's saddle and bridle in front of him and Pete's horse at the end of his rope. Hopalong quickly removed Pete's saddle and put the other in its place, Pete eloquent in his silence, and Johnny manifestly pleased by the proceedings.
"Now you can ride," Hopalong smiled, helping her into the saddle. "Pete don't care at all—he ain't saying a word," whereat Pete said a word, several of them in fact, under his breath and vowed that he would kill the men in the house to get square.
"I'll send it back as soon as I can," she promised, and then, when Hopalong leaned closer and whispered something to her, she flushed and spurred the animal, leaving him standing in a cloud of dust, a smile on his face.
Johnny, grinning until his face threatened to be ruptured, wheeled on Pete. "Yo're a lucky fool, even if you did go an' lose th' house for us—wish she'd ride my cayuse!"
Pete replied in keeping with his feelings now that there was no woman present, and walked away to change places with Red, who soon came up. Then the three mounted and cantered east to find the H2 foreman, Johnny mauling "Whiskey Bill" in his exuberance. Suddenly he turned in his saddle and slapped his thigh: "I'll bet four cents to a tooth brush that she's telling her dad to get scarce. She heard what you said, Hoppy!"
"Right! Come on!" exclaimed Hopalong, spurring into a gallop, his companions racing behind, spurring and quirting to catch him.
"Say, Red, she's a straight flush," Johnny shouted to his companion. "Can't be beat—if she turns Hoppy down I'm next in th' line-up!"