“To Brown’s Park.”
“Forcin’ her to go. Was that it?” Hollister broke in.
“No, sir. She went of her own accord.”
“Asked you to take her there, mebbe?”
“None o’ yore damn business.”
“How old is she, Mr. Houck?” Larson questioned.
“I dunno.”
“I do. Sixteen coming Christmas,” said Dud. “Dillon told me.”
“An’ how old are you, Mr. Houck?” the quiet, even voice of the owner of the Wagon Rod pursued.
“I d’no as that’s got anything to do with it, but I’m forty-three,” Jake retorted defiantly.