“What are you two birds of prey doin’ here today?” Kent called jestingly as he walked out to the rig. “Ain’t come to foreclose?”
Tobias cackled at his pleasantry. Gallup chose to be more serious. “Wouldn’t be so bold as that about it,” he said. “Just come to talk things over a little. Saw some of your boys a ways back. I seen Madeiras as we turned in. What’s he doin’ here?”
“Back on his job,” Kent grinned. “He had more sense than you allowed him.”
“Glad to hear it,” Gallup answered. “Where’s that rearin’, tearin’ Dice person? Bet he ain’t back.”
“He’ll never git back! Where he is or what he’s doin’ don’t interest me. Hey, you, Charlie Paul!” Kent called to his Piute teamster. “Take care of this team.”
The three men entered Kent’s office as the Indian led away the horses.
“Well, what you got on your mind, Aaron?” the cowman asked when they were seated.
“Two or three things. Come to think of it, that remark of yours about foreclosin’ wa’n’t so wide of the mark, only it ain’t a matter of money—that is, not exactly—that I’m thinkin’ about. To be right truthful, Jackson, it’s a promise of yours I came to foreclose on.”
“In regard to the notes?”
“No-o-o. In regard to the girl.”