"One of the fourteen that loves you, Miss Going-On-Eighteen. My, there'll be joy in Israel over the lost that is found. I reckon by to-morrow you'll be teaching the young idea how to shoot." He glanced down at his bandaged arm with a malicious grin.
Phyllis looked at him without speaking. It was Keller who made application of the remark.
"There are others here beside her pupils. Some of them are right quick and straight on the shoot, Mr. Weaver. Now you've seen Miss Sanderson home, there's still time to make your getaway without trouble. How about hitting the trail while travelling is good, seh?"
"What's the matter with you taking your own advice, Keller?"
"I don't figure the need is pressing in my case. Different with you."
"I told you I would back my chances against yours. Well, I'm standing pat on that."
"The road will be open to me to-morrow. I wonder will it be open to you then."
"My friend, who elected you guardeen to Buck Weaver?" drawled the big man carelessly.
"I wish you would go," Phyllis pleaded, plainly troubled over his obstinacy.
"Me, I always hated to disoblige a lady," Buck admitted.