Then, as the man obeyed her, she led him silently away from the house in the direction of the corrals. Once well out of earshot of the house she turned on him.
"Now see here, Bud," she cried. "I've had all I'm yearning for of you for the next twenty-four years. Now you're going to light right out back to the ranch right away, and don't you ever dare to come near here again—ever. My! but your language has been a disgrace to any New York tough. I've never, never heard such a variety of curse words ever. If I'd thought you could have talked that way I'd have had you go to Sunday school every Sunday since you've been one of our foremen."
"'Tain't just nothin', Miss Hazel," the man deprecated. "I ken do better than that on a round-up when the boys get gay. Say, it just did me good talkin' to a multi-millionaire that way. I don't guess I'll ever get such a chance again."
"That you won't," cried Hazel, smiling in the darkness, in spite of her outraged feelings.
"But I acted right, Miss," protested the man. "I don't guess he'd have located me fer anything but a 'hold-up.' Say, we'd got it all fixed. We just acted it over. I was plumb scared he'd shoot, though. You never can tell with these millionaires. I was scared he wouldn't know enough to push his hands up. Say, we'd have had to rush him if he hadn't, an' maybe there'd have been damage done."
Hazel sighed.
"There's enough of that done already. Say, you're sure you didn't hurt his poor ankles. You see," she explained, "he's Mr. Gordon's father."
The man began to laugh.
"Say, don't it beat all, Miss Hazel, stealin' your own father? How 'ud you fancy stealin' Mr. Mallinsbee? Gee! Mr. Gordon's a dandy. He sure is. He's a real bright feller, and I like him. What's the next play, Miss?"
"Goodness only knows," cried Hazel. Then she began to laugh. "Some harebrained, mad scheme, or it wouldn't be Gordon's. Anyway, you made it plain I'm to look after the—prisoner?"