"Do you mean to tell me that you'll keep them from water?" she demanded, her eyes flashing again.
"It ain't my fault that yore men don't hold 'em closer to th' river," he replied. "There's water a-plenty there. Yore father's keeping 'em on a dry range."
"Don't say anything about my father," she angrily retorted. "He knows his business better'n you can tell it to him."
"I'm sorry if I've gone an' said anything to make you mad," he earnestly replied. "I just wanted to show you that I'm only obeying orders. I don't want to argue with you."
"I didn't come here to argue," she quickly retorted. "I don't want you to drive our calves so hard, that's all."
"I'll be plumb tender with 'em," he assured her, grinning. "An' I didn't try to scare that other herd, honest."
"I saw you trying to scare them just before you saw me."
"Oh!" he exclaimed, chuckling as he recalled his fight with Red Eagle. "That was all th' fault of this ornery cayuse. He got th' idea into his fool head that he could throw me, so me an' him had it out right there."
She had been watching his face while he spoke and she remembered that he had fought with his horse, and believed that he was telling the truth. Then, suddenly, the humorous side struck her and brought a smile to her face. "I'm sorry I didn't understand," she replied in a low voice.
"Then you ain't mad no more?" he asked eagerly.