Bob came to time loyally. “Dud’s all right. You’ll find him there like a rock when you need him. Best fellow in all this White River country.”
Her shining eyes sent a stab of pain through his heart. She was smiling at him queerly. “One of the best,” she said.
“Stay with you to a fare-you-well,” he went on. “If I knew a girl—if I had a sister—well, I’d sure trust her to Dud Hollister. All wool an’ a yard wide that boy is.”
“Yes,” June murmured.
“Game as they make ’em. Know where he’s at every turn of the road. I’d ce’tainly back his play to a finish.”
“I know you would.”
“Best old pal a fellow ever had.”
“It’s really a pity you haven’t a sister,” she teased.
Bob guessed that June had brought him here to talk about Dud. He did, to the exclusion of all other topics. The girl listened gravely and patiently, but imps of mischief were kicking up their heels in her eyes.
“You give him a good recommendation,” she said at last. “How about his friend?”