That evening they rode up to the Three Bar just as Waddles announced the evening meal.
"She's hot!" the big voice wailed. "She's re-e-ed hot!"
The hands were gathering at the ranch, coming in from the range for a frolic before the beef round-up should keep out for another month. Deane's time was up and he had planned to leave on the following day.
"You can't do that," Harris said. "Two more days for you. I've given orders not to let you off the place till after the dance at Brill's. This is Tuesday and the big frolic will be staged Thursday night. Then you're free to go."
Deane shook his head and prepared to offer an excuse but Harris smilingly refused to consider it.
"No use to try," he said. "The boys won't let you go. We've had you out in the rain and now we'll try to make amends for it. Billie, don't let him leave the place. I'll detail you as guard."
"You hear the orders," she said. "You're stuck for two more days at the Three Bar whether you like it or not."
"That settles it," Deane said. "I do want to see that dance."
Horne strolled up to them as they reached the corral.
"Another of the wild bunch down," he said. "Magill this time. Got it just the same as Barton did last week. Shot from in front; one empty shell in his gun. The Breaks is getting to be a hard place to reside in."