“Yes,” she replied.
“The water here is yours?”
“Yes.”
“May I water my horse?”
“Certainly. There’s the trough.”
“But mebbe if you knew who I was—” He hesitated, with his glance on the listening men. “Mebbe you wouldn’t let me water him—though I ain’t askin’ none for myself.”
“Stranger, it doesn’t matter who you are. Water your horse. And if you are thirsty and hungry come into my house.”
“Thanks, ma’am. I can’t accept for myself—but for my tired horse—”
Trampling of hoofs interrupted the rider. More restless movements on the part of Tull’s men broke up the little circle, exposing the prisoner Venters.
“Mebbe I’ve kind of hindered somethin’—for a few moments, perhaps?” inquired the rider.