"Looks like Jack Murray's sorrel," he mused, holding the cigarette in the corner of his mouth and rocking it up and down. "If they stop, it's Jack."
The pencil-ends drew together at the lower end of the grove. They stopped.
"Shucks," Mr. Wingo muttered mildly. "I never did like that man."
Said the first pencil-end to the second pencil-end, "Hello, Sally Jane."
"Morning, Jack."
"I was just a-riding to your place."
"Don't let me stop you."
"I'll ride along with you."
"It's a free country." She lifted her reins and "kissed" to her horse. "And at times I've known you to be amusing, Jack. It's four miles to our ranch and you'll help to brighten the weary way."
He spurred alongside and turned in his saddle to stare at her.