“Please—please,” she cried, her eyes dilating with apprehension. “What have I done that you should come here to quarrel?”
Buck in the background smiled. He was mentally applauding the girl’s readiness, while he watched the others closely.
Ike turned to her again, and his anger had merged into a comical look of chagrin.
“Y’ see, missie,” he said in a fresh tone of apology, “ther’s fellers around here wi’ no sort o’ manners. They’re scairt to death makin’ a big talk to a red-ha’r’d gal, so I jest got to do it. An’ I sez it, it ain’t easy, folks like me speechin’ to folks like you——”
“Oh, git on!” cried Pete in a tired voice.
“Your hot air’s nigh freezin’,” laughed Soapy Kid.
“Quit it,” cried Ike hotly. “Ain’t they an ignorant lot o’ hogs?” he went on, appealing to the smiling girl. “Y’ see, missie, we’re right glad you come along. We’re prospectin’ this layout fer gold an’——”
“An’ we ain’t had no sort o’ luck till you got around,” added Pete hastily.
“In the storm,” nodded Curly Saunders.