“Didn’t I tell you to keep away from the Bar 99—you and your whole cursed outfit?”
“Seems to me you did mention something of that sort. But how was I to know whether you meant it unless I came back to see?”
Laura came into the room and ranged herself beside her father. Her hand rested lightly on his forearm.
“He got caught in one of your bear traps and this young man brought him here to wait for the doctor,” she explained.
“Hmp!”
The Missourian stared without civility at his guest, turned on his heel, and with his daughter beside him marched out of the room. He could not decently tell Stone to leave while he was under the care of a doctor, but he did not intend to make him welcome. London was a blunt grizzled old fellow who said what he thought even about the notorious Soapy Stone.
“We’ll pull our freights right away, Curly,” Stone announced as soon as his host had gone.
The young man went to the stable and saddled Keno. While he was tightening the cinch a shadow fell across his shoulder. He did not need to look round to see whose it was.
“I’m so glad you’re going to the horse ranch. You will look out for Sam. I trust you. I don’t know why, but I have the greatest confidence in you,” the owner of the shadow explained sweetly.
Curly smiled blandly over his shoulder at her. “Fine! That’s a good uplifting line of talk, Miss Laura. Now will you please explain why you’re feeding me this particular bunch of taffy? What is it I’m to do for you?”