“Oh, stop your nonsense,” protested Fred.
“Faith,” Pat broke in, “and didn’t he dive into the bunch and cut Dick’s ranch fairy out, though?”
“Roped and tied her before Dick caught his breath. Oh, he’s a smooth cow-kid, I tell—”
The sentence was cut short by a wild whoop from a cowboy who dashed up just then, reined his puffing pony and called out,
“Hello, stags! travelin’ or just goin’ somewhere?”
“Stag yourself, you bloomin’ spalpeen; and who are you to be salutin’ yer betters so oncivilly?”
“Dick—I’ll be hanged!” exclaimed Jim; “what’s your hurry, sport? Did she shake you.”
“Not on your life,” retorted Dick; “I saw her home all right.”
“Sounds fishy,” said Jim; “you hain’t had time.”
“Time!” snapped Dick; “you pokes need spurs, that’s all, especially this slick cow-kid in his borrowed outfit; here, take one of mine.”