"I don't want favors that way. I want you to like me, and then I will tell you."
"My goodness, missy! Like you! Who said I didn't?"
"No one. But you have ordered Lorry Adams to close up his camp and go over to work right near the Apache Reservation."
"I sure did."
"Well, Mr. Shoop, I don't like Apaches."
"You got comp'ny, missy. But what's that got to do with Lorry?"
"Oh, I suppose he doesn't care. But what do you think his mother would say to you if he—well, if he got scalped?"
A slow grin spread across Bud's broad face. Dorothy looked solemn disapproval. "I can't help it," he said as he shook all over. Two tears welled in the corner of his eyes and trickled down his cheeks. "I can't help it, missy. I ain't laughin' at you. But Lorry gettin' scalped! Why, here you been livin' up here, not five miles from the Apache line, and I ain't heard you tell of bein' scared of Injuns. And you ain't no bigger than a minute at that."
"That's just it! Suppose the Apaches did come over the line? What could we do if Lorry were gone?"
"Well, you might repo't their trespassin' to me. And I reckon your daddy might have somethin' to say to 'em. He's been around some."