“Whoopee, I get yuh! Yuh got friends down there,” Bill McAllister interrupted, “I betcha yuh do have, after what yuh done——”
At Allen’s warning glance, the old-timer brought his sentence to a close with a series of coughs.
“What yuh goin’ to do?” Doc asked.
“Me? I’m aimin’ to eat another piece of pie, if Mrs. Hart will give it to me, then I’m goin’ to ride to Three Roads Junction an’ send a telegram,” Allen said carelessly.
Mrs. Hart hastily arose and cut Allen a double portion of pie. The postmaster stared at Allen with protruding eyes. He was too overcome to speak. He nudged Bill McAllister and pointed to Allen. The old horse wrangler nodded in reply.
Doc Hollis volunteered to furnish Allen with a fast horse and then hastened away to saddle it. Five minutes later, he was back again. Allen finished the pie, thanked Mrs. Hart, walked outside, mounted the waiting horse, and rode away into the night.
“He sure does things casuallike,” the doctor said admiringly.
“It’s sure him,” the postmaster said in awe.
“Yeh, but don’t go talkin’ loud,” Bill McAllister warned.
“What is it? Who is that boy?” Ma Hart asked.