We'll have to show
them the Lazy D hasn't gone to sleep."
"Sure thing," he agreed.
"Has that buyer from Cheyenne turned up yet?" she asked,
reverting to business.
"Not yet. Do y'u want I should make the cut soon as he comes?"
"Don't you think his price is a little low--twenty dollars from
brand up?"
"It's a scrub bunch. We want to get rid of them, anyway. But
you're the doctor," he concluded slangily.
She thought a moment. "We'll let him have them, but don't make
the cut till I come back. I'm going to ride over to the Twin
Buttes."
His admiring eyes followed her as she went toward the pony that
was waiting saddled with the rein thrown to the ground. She
carried her slim, lithe figure with a grace, a lightness, that
few women could have rivaled. When she had swung to the saddle,
she half-turned in her seat to call an order to the foreman.
"I think, Mac, you had better run up those horses from Eagle
Creek. Have Denver and Missou look after them."
"Sure, ma'am," he said aloud; and to himself: "She's ce'tainly a
thoroughbred. Does everything well she tackles. I never saw
anything like it. I'm a Chink if she doesn't run this ranch like
she had been at it forty years.
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