He helped himself to a seat, which the girl had not proffered him, and stretched out his long legs as if for a prolonged visit. Hilda remained standing, looking down at him coolly, then she quietly moved toward the door, and opened it.
“That’ll be all, then,” she said, and held the screen door open.
The cowhand, with a black look at the back of the small, proud head, arose and taking the hint he passed out. Hilda snapped the screen door and hooked it. From outside, in a last effort to detain her, Ho said:
“One minute, Miss Hilda. Did you say them doegies were to go into the south pasture with our own stuff, then?”
Hilda had not mentioned the south pasture. However she said now:
“I suppose that will be all right, won’t it?”
“Well, if they was mine I’d keep ’em in the corrals for a bit, and give ’em the once-over in case they’s any blackleg among em. They’s one or two looks kind o’ suspicious.”
“All right, then. Keep them in the corrals.”
After all, the man knew his business, and she looked at him curiously through the screen door.
“Everything else on the place all right? Nothing loose? I thought I saw some stuff in the bull pasture when I rode up from the Minnehaha ranch to-day.”