Meanwhile the young woman attended strictly to business. She had
disappeared for half an hour with a suit case into the Elk House;
and when she returned in a short-skirted corduroy suit, leggings
and wide-brimmed gray Stetson hat, all Gimlet Butte took an
absorbing interest in the details of this delightful adventure
that had happened to the town. The population was out _en masse_
to watch her slip down the road on a trial trip.
Presently "Soapy" Sothern, drifting in on his buckskin from the
Hoodoo Peak country, where for private reasons of his own he had
been for the past month a sojourner, reported that he had seen
the prettiest sight in the State climbing under a gasoline bronc
with a monkey-wrench in her hand. Where? Right over the hill on
the edge of town. The immediate stampede for the cow ponies was
averted by a warning chug-chug that sounded down the road,
followed by the appearance of a flashing whir that made the
ponies dance on their hind legs.
"The gasoline bronc lady sure makes a hit with me," announced
"Texas," gravely. "I allow I'll rustle a job with the Lazy D
outfit."
"She ce'tainly rides herd on that machine like a champeen,"
admitted Soapy.
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