Outside the doctor’s office Blister and Bob met Houck. The Brown’s Park man scowled at the puncher. “I’m not through with you. Don’t you think it! Jus’ because you had a lucky fluke escape—”
“Tacklin’ a crazy wild beast whilst you an’ me were holin’ up,” Blister interjected.
Houck looked at the fat man bleakly. “You in this, Mr. Meddler? If you’re not declarin’ yoreself in, I’d advise you to keep out.”
Blister Haines laughed amiably with intent to conciliate. “What’s the use of nursin’ a grudge against the boy, Houck? He never did you any harm. S-shake hands an’ call it off.”
“You manage yore business if you’ve got any. I’ll run mine,” retorted Houck. To Bob he said meaningly as he turned away, “One o’ these days, young fellow.”
The threat chilled Dillon, but it was impossible just now to remain depressed. He rode back to the ranch in a glow of pleasure. Thoughts of June filled every crevice of his mind. They had shared an adventure together, had been partners in a moment of peril. She could not wholly despise him now. He was willing to admit that Houck had been right when he called it a fluke. The chance might not have come to him, or he might not have taken it. The scream of little Maggie Wiggins had saved the day for him. If he had had time to think—but fortunately impulse had swept him into action before he could let discretion stop him.
He lived over again joyfully that happy moment when June had stood before him pulsing with life, eager, fear-filled, tremulous. He had taken the upper hand and she had accepted his leadership. The thing his eyes had told her to do she had done. He would remember that—he would remember it always.
Nor did it dim his joy that he felt himself to be a fraud. It had taken no pluck to do what he did, since he had only obeyed a swift dominating mental reaction to the situation. The real courage had been hers.
He knew now that he would have to take her with him in his thoughts on many a long ride whether he wanted to or not.