“Now, Lon, you know very well you told me you thought he was a man from the ground up. Those were the very words you used.”
“Well, a hobo may be a man,” he defended. “Anyways, that don’t mean you’d ought to bust up yore happy home to hike over the hills for him.”
“Justin’s been talking to you,” she charged.
“Maybeso, an’ maybe not. That ain’t the point. While Clint’s away, it’s up to me to run the Diamond Bar K.”
“With Justin’s help,” she cut in.
Betty thought, though she did not express it in words, that Lon would have his hands full if he intended to take charge of her activities as a part of the ranch. She knew that this would never have occurred to him as included in his duties if it had not been suggested by Merrick.
“I’m not askin’ any one’s help. I reckon I’m as grown-up as I’ll ever be. Anyways, Clint put me in charge, figurin’ I was man-size an’ competent. Question is, Would yore father want you up here?”
Betty decided to carry the war indignantly into the territory of the enemy. “Of course, he would. After knowing Dad all these years I should think you’d be ashamed to doubt him. Dad pays his debts. He’s a good friend. This boy—this young fellow Hollister—tried to do us a good turn after we had behaved pretty bad to him. You know Dad has been looking for a chance to help him. Well, it’s come. What are we going to do about it? Go through—or quit on the job?”
“Go through. I ain’t proposin’ anything else. But you don’t have to stay here. I can look after him, an’ Merrick’ll see you home.”
“What do you know about nursing?” she scoffed. “Or cooking? You know what the doctor said. He’s got to have nice things to eat after he gets a little better. And good nursing. Dr. Rayburn told you—I heard him say it—that he was glad I’d come because Mr. Hollister needs a woman’s nursing.”