"And the wonder is," snapped Templeton, "that you haven't dropped clean out of the world! If you do a fool thing like this, Buck Thornton, when your last payment is due, you can do it. But I won't go near your funeral!"
Thornton laughed easily, tucked the receipt into his vest pocket, and reached for his hat and spurs.
"I'm obliged, Mr. Templeton," he acknowledged lightly. "But we've got to admit that I got across all right this time. And, as you've heard, I suppose, right under Mr. Bad Man's nose, since I was carrying that little wad last night when Hap Smith got cleaned at Poke Drury's. Well, I'll be going. Just give that rattlesnake Pollard the five thousand and an invitation from me to keep off my ranch, remembering that it doesn't happen to belong to him any more."
He nodded and went to the door. There he turned and looked back at the girl. She had risen swiftly, even coming a step toward him.
"I haven't thanked you … I …"
Templeton looked on curiously, an odd twitching at the corners of his large mouth. Thornton threw up a sudden hand.
"No," he said hastily. "You haven't spoiled things by thanking me. And…. We'll see each other again," he concluded in his quietly matter-of-fact way. And, his nod for both of them, he went out.
CHAPTER VI
WINIFRED JUDGES A MAN
There was a puzzled frown in her eyes, a faint flush tingeing her cheeks as, withdrawing her regard from Thornton's departure, she looked to Templeton and asked quickly: