"Why didn't you wait till to-day, so the rest of us could see how she acted?" Charley asked.
"What do you think you are"—he started to say—"a bunch of lawyers cross-examinin' a witness?" thought better of it and with a careless laugh answered: "If you're huntin' entertainment, why don't you go up to Eagle Butte to th' picture show? Th' maverick an' me ain't no exhibition!"
"Did she buck?" Charley continued, ignoring the sarcastic remark.
"Some," the Ramblin' Kid drawled.
"What you going to do with the filly while we're out on the beef hunt?"
Chuck queried, wishing to keep the conversation general.
"Ride her!" was the laconic reply.
"Ain't you afraid she'll break away from the caballero and you'll lose her again?" Charley asked.
"When I ain't usin' her I'll 'neck' her to Captain Jack," the Ramblin' Kid answered patiently, referring to the method of fastening a wild horse to one that is gentle and prevent its running away, by attaching a short length of rope to the neck of each. "I don't believe she'd leave th' stallion anyhow!"
"By golly," Chuck said earnestly and half-pleadingly, "I wish you'd put her against that Y-Bar outfit's Thunderbolt horse in the two-mile sweepstakes this year! It would be—"
"Fun to see her run!" the Ramblin' Kid interrupted, looking up quickly and straight into the eyes of Carolyn June as he finished the contemptuous quotation of her words, spoken the day before at the corral. She flushed, but gazed back at him without flinching. "Well," he continued, "I reckon you'll get your wish—th' maverick is goin' to run against th' Vermejo horse!"