Lambert swallowed a dry lump.
"Is she running the ranch?"
"Like an old soldier, sir. I tell you, I've got a whole lot of admiration for that girl."
"She must have her hands full."
"Night and day. She's short on fence-riders, and I guess if you boys are lookin' for a job you can land up there with Vesta, all right."
Taterleg and the girl came out and sat on the green rustic bench at the farther end of the porch. It complained under them; there was talk and low giggling.
"We didn't expect to strike anything this soon," Lambert said, his active mind leaping ahead to shape new romance like a magician.
"You don't look like the kind of boys that'd shy from a job if it jumped out in the road ahead of you."
"I'd hate for folks to think we would."
"Ain't you the feller they call; the Duke of Chimney Butte?"