Before the young woman could reply to her companion's derisive remarks, the object which had prompted his comments arrived within speaking distance.
"I trust I am not intruding," began the professor, in his small, thin voice. Then as Patches, his eyes still on that oak bush, stood up, the little man added, with hasty condescension, "Keep your seat, my man; keep your seat. I assure you it is not my purpose to deprive you of Miss Reid's company."
Patches grinned. By that "my man" he knew that Kitty had not enlightened her teacher as to the "typical cowboy's" real character.
"That's all right, perfessor," he said awkwardly. "I just seen a maverick over yonder a-piece. I reckon I'd better mosey along an' have a closer look at him. Me an' Kitty here warn't talkin' nothin' important, nohow. Just a gassin' like. I reckon she'd ruther go on home with you, anyhow, an' it's all right with me."
"Maverick!" questioned the professor. "And what, may I ask, is a maverick?"
"Hit's a critter what don't belong to nobody," answered Patches, moving toward his horse.
At the same moment Kitty, who had risen, and was looking in the direction from which the professor had come, exclaimed, "Why, there's Yavapai Joe, Patches. What is he doing here?"
She pointed, and the professor, looking, caught a glimpse of Joe's back as the fellow was slinking over the ridge.
"I reckon mebby he wants to see me 'bout somethin' or other," Patches returned, as he mounted his horse. "Anyway, I'm a-goin' over that-a-way an' see. So long!"
Patches rode up to Joe just as the Tailholt Mountain man regained his horse on the other side of the ridge.