“What was the trouble?”
Mirth bubbled in his gray eyes. “I gathered, ma’am, that they wanted to collect my scalp.”
“Do what?” she frowned.
“Bump me off—send me across the divide.”
“Oh, I know that. But why?”
He seemed to reproach himself. “Now how could I be so neglectful? I clean forgot to ask.”
“That’s ridiculous,” was her sharp verdict.
“Yes, ma’am, plumb ridiculous. My only excuse is that they began scattering lead so sudden I didn’t have time to ask many ‘Whyfors.’ I reckon we’ll just have to call it a Wyoming difference of opinion,” he concluded pleasantly.
“Which means, I suppose, that you are not going to tell me.”
“I got so much else to tell y’u that’s a heap more important,” he laughed. “Y’u see, I’m enjoyin’ my first automobile ride. It was certainly thoughtful of y’u to ask me to go riding with y’u, Miss Messiter.”