The little woman turned to Patty: "He's just a-talkin'. Chances is, if it come to hangin', Thompson would be the one to try an' talk 'em out of it. Why, he won't even brand his own colts an' calves—makes the hands do it."
"That's different," defended the man. "They're little an' young an' they ain't never done nothin' ornery."
"But you haven't told me how much you want for your horse," persisted the girl.
"Now just you listen to me a minute. I don't want to sell that horse, an' there ain't no mortal use of you buyin' him. He's always here—right in the corral when he ain't in the stable, an' either place, all you got to do is throw yer kak on him an' fog it."
The girl stared at him in surprise: "You mean——"
"I mean that you're plumb welcome to use Lightnin' whenever you need him. An' if they's anything else I can do to help you beat out any ornery cuss that'd try an' hornswaggle you out of yer claim, you can count on me doin' it! An' whether you know it 'er not, I ain't the only one you can count on in a pinch neither." The man waved her thanks aside with a sweep of a big hand, and rose from the table. "Miz T. an' me'd like fer you to stop in whenever you feel like——"
"Yes, indeed, we would," seconded the little woman. "Couldn't you come over an' bring yer sewin' some day?"
Patty laughed: "I'm afraid I haven't much sewing to bring, but I'll come and spend the day with you some time. I'd love to."
The girl rode homeward with a lighter heart than she had known in some time. "Now let him follow me all he wants to," she muttered. "But I wonder why Mr. Thompson said I wouldn't have to race the buckskin. And who did he mean I could count on in a pinch—Watts, I guess, or maybe he meant Mr. Bethune."
As she saddled her horse next morning, Bethune presented himself at the cabin. "Where away?" he smiled as he rode close, and swung lightly to the ground.