"Well, after all the talk I jest wasted on you, it signifies that you're too thick-headed, Buddy, to waste any more on. I can learn you to spell if you wanta take lessons."
"You're dreamin', Brand. Wake up! As to spellin'—I'm spellin' right now while the fo'man is entertainin' me."
"Thanks for callin' my attention to it. You can take your hoss and ride over to the Three Oaks. There's some fence down, over at the North Spring. I ain't dreamin' about that."
Bud Light departed, swearing to himself. He disliked mending fence. Williams knew it. The cheerful Bud, "Reckoned he ought to 'a' known better than to try to ride the old man into the fence. Next time he would listen—and mebby learn something."
Louise, drawing on her gauntlets, came down the broad steps of the ranch-house. The November air was crisp with the tang of early morning.
She was puzzled at finding Boyar and Yuma together. She noticed Boyar had trailed his bridle across the yard—an unusual thing for him to do, considering his training. Louise spoke to the Yuma colt, who sniffed at her gloved hand. The girl wondered why Collie had saddled Yuma. He usually rode one of the ranch horses to work. She wanted to talk with him—to reason with him; for her knowledge of the previous night's disclosures worried and distressed her. She thought Collie's half promise to Overland Red to turn to their old life had been too easily made. Her pride in him was touched. She was hurt, and not a little angry. She saw the flaw in his ultimate decision to sacrifice himself and his prospects through a too stringent and quixotic interpretation of his duty. To go back to the old life again—a tramp!
But Collie was not to be seen. However, Louise never hesitated long. Deliberately she untied the Yuma colt and swung into the saddle. Black Boyar seemed to realize something unusual in her preference. He fretted as the roan pony leaped sideways toward the gate.
Louise knew that Collie would follow her. She was riding his pony, the Yuma colt, and he would be fearful for the rider's safety.
Collie, coming from the bunk-house, glanced up and saw Black Boyar standing alone where his own pony had stood. This was not an invitation; this was daring him to follow.
He rode into the cañon, half conscious of Yuma's tracks ahead of him. He rode past the tracks as they swerved toward a grassy level near the stream.