“How much did he have to borrow?” asked Joe.
Honey didn’t know.
“Jim Wheeler must be short of money,” said Honey. “Merrick said he was in pretty deep with the Pinnacle bank. They accepted yore resignation and appointed Len Kelsey, Joe.”
“Quick work,” said Joe shortly.
“Yeah, I’ll say it is. You were a fool to quit that job.”
Honey left him there and rode out of town. He intended going straight back to the Lazy B, but began thinking about Laura Hatton so strongly that he found himself crossing the Tumbling River bridge before he realized where he was heading.
Jim Wheeler arrived there ahead of Honey, and was sitting on the porch, talking with Peggy and Laura, while Jack Ralston, of the Circle M, sat on a step, hat on the back of his head. Ralston was a tall, curly-headed young man who thought quite a lot of Jack Ralston. He was a clever roper, and one of the best bronc riders in the country.
Honey scowled and wanted to keep right on riding, but he was so close that it might look queer if he didn’t stop. Peggy went into the house before Honey arrived. Ralston looked critically at Honey, nodded shortly, and resumed conversation with Laura.
Honey dismounted. Then he uncinched his saddle, shook it a little, and took plenty of time cinching it again. He knew he was of a hair-trigger disposition, and was trying to curb it. Ralston was telling Laura about how he rode Derelict, a locally famous outlaw horse, at a recent rodeo. Honey’s ears reddened slightly. Derelict had thrown Honey the day before Ralston had ridden him, and it had taken ten minutes for Honey to recover consciousness.
“It must be wonderful to ride a bucking horse,” said Laura. “I saw Lonnie Myers ride one at the Flying H. Oh, it was a lot of fun!”