Torrance growled into his moustache. "Four more gone, that is. And I bet you stopped to brush your hat."
"I didn't hurry. Why should I? That chap knew he was safe. He's miles away now, and by the time we could get across the river after him he'd be in the next Province. He knows the prairie better than we do grade. We'd have about as much chance of getting him as you had of hitting him. Besides, we're track builders, not track finders. Your measly hundred a month don't half pay for my real job. Get the Police if you want to keep the excitement up."
"A hundred a month—and every evening in my shack," grumbled Torrance.
"I know lots of better men would think it good pay."
"It's every evening in your shack," gibed Conrad, "or you'd have to come and live with Tressa and me."
"Oh?" questioned Tressa.
"Sure!" confidently.
"If you two are going to quarrel over me, I'll go back East."
"Dad-in-law," pleaded Conrad, "don't you think we could stage a good rough-and-tumble here and now? I've been two years trying to get her back East for good."
"I'm staying," declared Tressa, tossing her head.
"So'm I—in spite of your father."