“Thanks. I shall certainly come again. And––well, when are you coming over to us again? I can’t offer you any shooting.”
“Don’t trouble,” smiled Iredale.
Hervey saw the “boy” Chintz leading his horse round.
“You might tell your mother,” the rancher went on, “that I’ll come to-morrow to read over that fencing contract she spoke about for her.”
Hervey leered round upon him.
“Will it do if I tell Prue instead?”
“Certainly not.” Iredale’s face was quite expressionless at that moment. “You will please do as I ask.”
Hervey gulped down his chagrin; but his eyes were alight with the anger from which his lips refrained. He mounted his horse.
“Well, good-bye, George,” he said, with a great display of cordiality. “I hope those owls of yours will permit me to ride in peace.”