“Guess there will be when we all get there,” said Simpson with a grin.
“Come on in to dinner,” said Wren turning toward the house, “and I’ll ride over with you.”
They all accepted the invitation as a matter of course, and Scott, still smarting from Wren’s rough speeches, mounted Jed to continue his journey, wondering where he would find a meal. He had expected to get dinner at one of the ranches and had not counted on them being hostile to the Service.
Wren happened to turn just as he was settling into the saddle. “Hey,” he shouted. Scott paused. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Scott had not had a civil word from Wren since he arrived and was not in a humor to be ordered around now. “To Brown’s,” he answered shortly, and added, “If it’s any of your business.”
“Turning down my invitation to dinner are you?” he asked in an ominously gentle voice. To ignore an invitation to dinner was considered a deadly insult and the others all stared expectantly.
“I do not care to eat at a home where I am called a grafter and looked on with suspicion,” Scott answered with dignity. He had sized his man up and felt pretty certain that he would get the worst of a fight but he was an experienced boxer and was not at all dismayed by the prospect.
Wren, who had been advancing toward Jed with mighty strides, stopped suddenly at this retort and looked at Scott silently for almost a minute. When he spoke his voice was gentle again but it was not the gentleness of intense anger this time. “Well, young man, this is the first time I ever had a man ignore my invitation to dinner and didn’t try to kill him, but this time I reckon you’re right. I reckon I would not eat with a man myself who talked that way to me, but if you had had the experiences that I have in the last five years you wouldn’t hold it against me. I thought you were passing us up because we were not good enough for you. Some Easterners think that way. If I hadn’t believed you honest, I wouldn’t have asked you to dinner. If you’ll come in we’ll be glad to have you.”
It was the longest speech that Wren had ever been known to make and his friends looked at him in admiration. Scott was only too glad to accept the apology and get out of his trouble so easily. He dismounted and extended his hand. “If that is the way you feel, Mr. Wren, I shall be delighted to come in,” he said heartily.
Mrs. Wren, a large motherly woman, met them at the door. She was not at all dismayed by the unexpected dinner party and greeted them cordially. Visitors here were few and always welcome. “Mother,” bawled Mr. Wren, once more restored to his boisterous self, “Here is an honest patrolman.”