Bud King rode up to him before he answered. Then, sitting loosely in the saddle, his eyes meditative upon one free, swinging boot, he answered.
"There's a dance over to the school house tonight, for one thing.
Coming, Buck?"
Thornton shook his head.
"No. Hadn't heard of it and I guess I'll be busy enough without prancing out to dances." And then, a little curiosity in his even tones, "How does it happen you're not out hunting rustlers with the old man?"
Young King lifted his head and again Thornton saw in a man's eyes a thing which was so vague that it went almost unnoted, a look of veiled suspicion.
"The old man hunts his way and I hunt mine," Bud King said briefly. "And besides, I haven't been to a shindig for six months."
A little flush ran up into his face under Thornton's level glance, and
Buck laughed softly.
"Who's the girl, Bud?" he challenged.
"Aw, go chase yourself," Bud flung back at him, but with a reddening grin. To Thornton came a swift inspiration.
"Wonder if Miss Waverly will be over from the Corners?" he asked.