“Buffler,” she said, smoothing back her tangled hair, “what aire ye goin’ to do now?”
“In what way?” he asked. “When?”
“Why, to-morrer?”
“I hardly know.”
“Well, I know you’re lookin’ fer road agents!”
“You seem to think you are a mind reader,” he declared, with a laugh.
“I am. I kin read yer mind same’s my own.”
“What am I thinking of?”
“That you wish Pizen Jane was in purgatory, er some other furrin country!”
He laughed again, and she laughed with him.