"That's exactly what I'm goin' to do," retorted Dinsmore. "Any objections?"
Gurley dropped his sneer instantly. His alarm voiced itself in a wheedling apology. "I didn't go for to rile you, Homer. O' course you cayn't do that. We got to stick together. The Indians is one reason. An' there's another. No need for me to tell you what it is."
"You'll have to wait for me in the cañon till I get back. It's not far from here to you-know-where. I'm goin' to take the horses an' see this girl back to her home."
"You're good," Ramona said simply.
"You're not figurin' on takin' my horse, are you?" Gurley burst out with an oath.
"You've done guessed it, Steve. You'll have to hoof it into the cañon."
"Like hell I will. Take another think, my friend."
The eyes of the men clashed, one pair filled with impotent rage, the other cold and hard as polished steel on a frosty morning.
Gurley yielded sullenly. "It's no square deal, Homer. We didn't bring her here. Why cayn't she go along with us an' hole up till the 'Paches are gone an' till ... things kinda settle down?"
"Because she's got no business with folks like us. Her place is back at the A T O, an' that's where I aim to take her. She's had one hell of a time, if you ask me. What that kid needs is for her home folks to tuck her up in bed an' send her to sleep. She's had about all the trouble a li'l' trick like her can stand, I shouldn't wonder."