“Yu' needn't be scared of a girl,” said Lin. “Another sheriff! So they're not quit bothering us yet.”
However, this meddling was not the company's, but the county's; a sheriff sent to arrest, on a charge of murder, a man named Trampas, said to be at the Sand Hill Ranch. That was near Rawhide, two stations beyond, and the engine might not stop at Separ, even to water. So here was no molesting of Separ's liberties.
“All the same,” Lin said, for pistols now and then still sounded at the corrals, “the boys'll not understand that till it's explained, and they may act wayward first. I'd feel easier if you slept here,” he urged to the girl. But she would not. “Well, then, we must rustle some other private place for you. How's the section-house?”
“Rank,” said the agent, “since those Italians used it. The pump engineer has been scouring, but he's scared to bunk there yet himself.”
“Too bad you couldn't try my plan of a freight-car!” said I.
“An empty?” she cried. “Is there a clean one?”
“You've sure never done that?” Lin burst out.
“So you're scandalized,” said she, punishing him instantly. “I reckon it does take a decent girl to shock you.” And while she stood laughing at him with robust irony, poor Lin began to stammer that he meant no offence. “Why, to be sure you didn't!” said she. “But I do enjoy you real thoroughly.”
“Well, m'm,” protested the wincing cow-puncher, driven back to addressing her as “ma'am,” “we ain't used—”
“Don't tangle yourself up worse, Mr. McLean. No more am I 'used.' I have never slept in an empty in my life. And why is that? Just because I've never had to. And there's the difference between you boys and us. You do lots of things you don't like, and tell us. And we put up with lots of things we don't like, but we never let you find out. I know you meant no offense,” she continued, heartily, softening towards her crushed protector, “because you're a gentleman. And lands! I'm not complaining about an empty. That will be rich—if I can have the door shut.”