“You’ll come in with us and see what Daddy has to say about it,” the girl insisted.
She started to loosen her saddle-cinch. Gowan handed back the silver flask, and stripping off saddle and bridle from her horse, placed them on the rail beside his own. Ashton waited, as if expecting a like service. The puncher started off beside Miss Isobel without looking at him. Ashton flushed hotly, and hastened to do his own unsaddling.
CHAPTER VII
THE CHANCE OF RECLAMATION
Beyond the bunkhouse, which was the nearest building to the corral, stood the low but roomy log structure of the main ranch house. As Ashton came around the front corner, close behind Gowan and the girl, Knowles rose from his comfortable chair in the rustic porch, knocked out the half burned contents of his pipe and extended a freckled, corded hand to the stranger.
“Howdy, Mr. Ashton! Glad to see you!” he said with hearty hospitality. “Hope you’ve come to ease up our lonesomeness by a month or two’s visit.”
“Why, I––You’re too kind, really!” replied Ashton, his voice quavering and breaking at the unexpected cordiality of the welcome. “If you––I shall take advantage of your generous offer. You see, I’m rather in a box, owing to my––” He caught himself up, and tightened his slackening lip. “But you’ll pardon me if I ask you to let me do something in return for your hospitality.”
“We don’t sell our hospitality on the range,” brusquely replied the cowman. 69