“Oscar is uh cougar, I takes it,” opined Ren, rolling a cigarette and looking admiringly at the girl. “I reckon somebody might as well let th’ lady loose. Cougars bein’ thick, I don’t think it’s safe to tie ladies to trees anyway.”
One of the men cut the ropes which bound her, and the thin-faced man recovered his camera from the willow thicket.
“Miss, I reckon you can have that cougar skin if yuh wants it,” remarked Sig. “We ain’t got no use fer it, and if yuh wants it I’ll have Ren skin it fer yuh.”
“I am Miss Reynolds,” she replied with a smile. “And I’d love to shake hands with both of you. You gentlemen saved my life, and I haven’t words to thank you with.”
“Don’t mention it, Miss Reynolds,” replied Sig. “Little thing like that—why——”
“Slack up yore rope!” rasped Ren. “You never saved anything—not even yore salary, and now yuh tells her that it’s uh little thing to save her life.” He leaned over an’ held out his hand. “Miss Reynolds, I’m uh heap glad to meet yuh. My name’s Ren Merton, and if there’s anything I can do fer yuh—yuh can have that catskin to remember me by.”
She gave him a sweet smile.
“I’d love to have it, Mr. Merton. I’ll have one of the men skin it, and every time I put my foot on that rug I’ll remember you. I’ve had my life saved many times on the films, but this being the first time in real life, I just don’t know what to say.”
“I jist hope yuh won’t forget it, anyway,” laughed Ren.
“Do you think you’ll forget it?” she asked.