"Toads are fat animals," he corrected her. "I'm not. More like a bullfrog, if you like. What am I going to do? Why, just squat, I guess."
As he leaned back against the limb which offered its support to his shoulders Terry noted that he wore in full sight at his side the heavy Colt he had bought the other night in Red Creek. A new habit, with Steve Packard.
"Gunman, are you?" she jeered. "I might have known it. Gunmen are all cowards."
He sighed.
"You can be the most irritating young lady I ever met. And why? What have I ever done to you—besides save you from drowning? Since we are neighbors, why not be good friends? By the way, where do you carry your gun?"
"It's different with a girl," she said bluntly. "There's some excuse for her. With the kind that's filling the woods lately she's apt to need it."
"And you wouldn't be afraid to use it?"
"I'm not here to chin with you all day," observed Terry coolly. "And you haven't told me what you're doing on my land."
"Your land?" he demanded.
"On my side of the line, then."