"And so you were drunk, were you, Mr. Atkins?" she inquired, fixing her gaze upon the deposed straw-boss; and Hardy Atkins shot a look at her which was both confession and appeal.
"And you, Jack?" she continued severely.
"Yes, ma'am," spoke up Happy Jack, upon whom the severity of her manner was lost. "I was drunk, all right."
"Well, you don't need to be proud of it!" she observed cuttingly. "It's no distinction in this bunch. Brig, were you drunk, too?"
"No, ma'am," responded Brigham promptly.
"Oh, what's the use of talking?" scoffed Dixie, glancing at his swollen face and bloodshot eyes.
"All the same, I wasn't!" denied Brigham boldly. "I reckon you'd look kind of bug-eyed if you'd been standin' guard all night!"
"Well, what's the matter with your face then?" she demanded. "Did the ground rise up and hit you?"
"No, but an old cow did, over in the shippin' chute!" And Brigham drew himself up and grinned defiantly. It was not often that he had a chance to assume this high moral pose, and he decided to make the most of it.
"That's right," interposed Henry Lee, who so far had let his daughter do all the talking. "Brig and Bowles stood guard all night and brought up the remuda in the morning. I won't forget that, Brig," he added significantly. "I'm looking for men I can trust."