“You tryin’ to pick a fight with me, Whisperin’?”
“Fight, hell! I never fight with kids. Go out on the porch and quarrel with Len; I’ve got to cook a meal.”
In the meantime Amos Baggs had secured a livery-stable rig and was bringing Nan out to the Box S. The road was rutty, and the buggy springs threatened to throw them both out at any time, so conversation was limited.
“Of course, you’ll take charge of the place,” explained Baggs. “I’ll handle all the details. Pollock said you had plenty of nerve, and he’s a good judge of women. I suppose you might as well keep those two old men. One is a very good cook. And I have decided that you will keep Len Ayres. He is a good cow-man and can advise you in everything in that line.”
“You mean the man who just came back from prison?”
“Exactly.”
“But is he a safe person to have around?” smiled Nan.
Baggs’s right hand went instinctively to his ear, but jerked back quickly.
“I—I think so,” he faltered. “We’ll give him a trial. Try to make the best of it, because it’s well worth your while. I’ll keep you instructed.”
They drove in at the front of the ranch house, and Len met them. Whispering and Sailor stayed in the kitchen, eyeing each other, as they heard Len talking to Nan. The three of them came in the house together.