“You might. You might even give it to me.”
Cavanagh looked at the man as if he were dreaming. “You must be crazy.”
“Oh no, I’m not. Sheep-herders do go twisted, but I’m not in the business long enough for that. I’m just a bit nutty about that girl.”
He paused a moment. “So if you have a picture, I wish you’d show it to me.”
“I haven’t any.”
“Is that right?”
“That’s right. I’ve only seen her two or three times, and she isn’t the kind that distributes her favors.”
“So it seems. And yet you’re just the kind of figure to catch a girl’s eye. She likes you—I could see that, but you’ve got a good opinion of yourself. You’re an educated man—do you intend to marry her?”
“See here, Mr. Sheep-herder, you better ride on up to your camp,” and Ross turned to mount his horse.
“Wait a minute,” called the other man, and his voice surprised the ranger with a note of authority. “I was terribly taken with that girl, and I owe you a whole lot; but I’ve got to know one thing. I can see you’re full of her, and jealous as a bear of any other suitor. Now I want to know whether you intend to marry her or whether you’re just playing with her?”