“Am I my cousin’s keeper?” he drawled. “I can advise him to stay, but I can’t make him.”
“Well, I can. I’m his nurse, and I say he sha’n’t stir a foot out of this house—not a foot.”
The wounded man smiled quietly, admiring the splendid energy of her. “I’m right sorry to leave y’u so unceremoniously.”
“You’re not going.” She wheeled on the outlaw “I don’t understand this at all. But if you want him you can find him here when you come again. Put him on parole and leave him here. I’ll not be a party to murder by letting him go.”
“Y’u think I’m going to murder him?” he smiled.
“I think he cannot stand the riding. It would kill him.”
“A haidstrong man is bound to have his way. He seems hell-bent on riding. All the docs say the outside of a hawss is good for the inside of a man. Mebbe it’ll be the making of him.”
“I won’t have it. I’ll rouse the whole countryside against you. Why don’t you parole him till he is better?”
“All right. We’ll leave it that way,” announced the man. “I’d hate to hurt your tender feelings after such a pleasant evening. Let him give his parole to come to me whenever I send for him, no matter where he may be, to quit whatever he is doing right that instant, and come on the jump. If he wants to leave it that way, we’ll call it a bargain.”
Again the rapier-thrust of their eyes crossed. The sheepman was satisfied with what he saw in the face of his foe.