“Wal, you see, the truth is every blamed cowboy on the range except Stewart thinks it’s his bounden duty to entertain the ladies.”
“I think that is just fine!” exclaimed Dorothy Coombs; and she joined in the general laugh.
“Stewart, then, doesn’t care to help entertain us?” inquired Helen, in curious interest. “Wal, Miss Helen, Stewart is sure different from the other cowboys,” replied Stillwell. “Yet he used to be like them. There never was a cowboy fuller of the devil than Gene. But he’s changed. He’s foreman here, an’ that must be it. All the responsibility rests on him. He sure has no time for amusin’ the ladies.”
“I imagine that is our loss,” said Edith Wayne, in her earnest way. “I admire him.”
“Stillwell, you need not be so distressed with what is only gallantry in the boys, even if it does make a temporary confusion in the work,” said Madeline.
“Miss Majesty, all I said is not the half, nor the quarter, nor nuthin’ of what’s troublin’ me,” answered he, sadly.
“Very well; unburden yourself.”
“Wal, the cowboys, exceptin’ Gene, have gone plumb batty, jest plain crazy over this heah game of gol-lof.”
A merry peal of mirth greeted Stillwell’s solemn assertion.
“Oh, Stillwell, you are in fun,” replied Madeline.