Gordon remained where he was, waiting to feast his eyes upon the fresh beauty of this girl, who occupied so large a portion of his thoughts.
Her father stood aside to allow her to pass in, and Gordon had his reward in her radiant smile.
"How's our junior partner?" she cried gayly.
"Feeling just about ready to turn the office into a twelve-foot ring and—hurt somebody," the junior partner retorted quickly.
Hazel pulled a long face.
"Is it that way?" she demanded, and turned back to her father. Then she added playfully: "What's ruffled the atmosphere of our—dovecote?"
The old man began to chuckle.
"Dovecote?" he said. "Guess armed fortress comes nearer describing this lay out. Anyway the temper of its occupants," he added, his twinkling eyes on the determined features of his protégé. "Guess I'll get goin' out to the ranch while you two scrap things out. Seems to me I need to get the cobwebs of David Slosson out of my head."
He took his departure without haste, but with the obvious intention of avoiding any further discussion of David Slosson for the present. And Gordon was not sorry for his going. He felt that at all costs his suggestion that Hazel should take her place in the ring with this man Slosson was not to be thought of.
But he was reckoning without Hazel herself. He was calculating with all a man's—a young man's—assurance that this girl would regard his opinions in the light he regarded them himself.