Baird gave him look for look, coolly, returning his nod in like fashion, and Coats transferred his attention to Ann. "Well, Ann?"
"I stopped up here on account of the horse," Ann explained. "He was ugly when the train came—if I'd been nearer, I reckon he'd have run away.... This is Mr. Baird, father—he wanted to meet you—he wants to sell you an automobile." Ann was very certain that her father would promptly dispose of Baird. He knew who Baird was, the whole Ridge knew Baird now—an enterprising young fellow who had been put forward by the Westmores.
Both to her surprise and Baird's, Coats offered his hand. "I'm glad to meet you. I've heard about you—you're a western man, aren't you?"
"Chicago.... Some one was telling me you'd lived out there—long enough to be interested in automobiles, I hope." Baird had rather a taking smile, particularly when it was whimsical.
To Ann's greater surprise, Coats said, "I have been thinking of getting one—if for no other reason than to get some decent roads about here. From what I know of your Dempsters they can be guaranteed to furnish an accident or two that would stir up our county supervisors. The roads they give us are an outrage."
Coats' face softened pleasantly under amusement, and Baird laughed. "Tell me who they are, and I'll go for them—sell each one of them a machine. That's a revenge that ought to satisfy you."
"All right—if you want to ride on with us, I'll tell you. I'm partial to automobiles anyway—even a Dempster's more satisfactory than a brute like this.... Ann, you knew he wasn't safe—why didn't you bring Jinny?"
"Jinny went lame this morning, an' the other horses were working."
Coats frowned. "There's always something wrong with them. The horse is certainly an obsolete way of getting about—I'll be glad when he becomes merely a pet."
Baird agreed with him. He liked to win a man, particularly an intelligent, unassuming man like Coats Penniman. He set himself to do so, and found that Coats, for some unexplainable reason, was willing to be friendly. They found plenty to talk about, even for the length of four miles up the Post-Road, and, when Coats chose the longer way round, by the front road, Baird kept on with them, as far as the club house. He had decided that he liked Coats Penniman, and that it was pleasant riding in this slow way through the leafy scents of May, particularly with anything as lovely to look at as Ann.