“That's enough. You padlock that ugly mouth and light a shuck.”
The girl came forward and the man leaned heavily on her as he limped to the road. The Texan followed with the buckskin she had been riding and tied it to the back of the road-wagon.
“Give me my purse,” the girl said to the convict after they were seated.
She emptied it and handed the roll of bills it contained to the owner of the team. He looked at it and at her, then shook his head.
“You'll need it likely. I reckon I can trust you. Schoolmarms are mostly reliable.”
“I had rather pay now,” she answered tartly.
“What's the rush?”
“I prefer to settle with you now.”
“All right, but I'm in no sweat for my money. My team and the wagon are worth two hundred and fifty dollars. Put this plug at forty and it would be high.” He jerked his head toward the brush where the other saddle-horse was. “That leaves me a balance of about two hundred and ten. Is that fair?”
She bit her lip in vexation. “I expect so, but I haven't that much with me. Can't I pay this seventy on account?”