“It’s something like a wise man taking his coat, I suppose.” 223
“Now you’ve got it,” commended Boyle.
“But Smith, who used to drive the stage, could have fixed you up all right,” she told him. “He’s got a tent to lodge travelers in down by his new store. You must have seen it as you passed?”
“Yes; and there’s another crook!” said Boyle with plain feeling on the matter. “But I didn’t come down here to see Smith or anybody else but you. It’s business.”
He looked at her with severity in his dark face, as if to show her that all thoughts of tenderness and sentiment had gone out of his mind.
“I’m listening,” said she.
“There’s a man down here a few miles spreadin’ himself around on a piece of property that belongs to me,” declared Boyle, “and I want you to help me get him off.”
She looked at him in amazement.
“I don’t understand what you mean,” said she.
“Slavens.”