Each of them
trailed a rifle by his side.
"You're a fine pair of ring-tailed snorters, ain't y'u?" jeered
the foreman. "Got to get gay and go projectin' round on the shoot
after y'u got your orders to stay hitched. Anything to say for
yo'selves?"
If they had it was said very silently.
"Now, Miss Messiter is going to pass it up this time, but from
now on y'u don't go off on any private massacrees while y'u punch
at the Lazy D. Git that? This hyer is the last call for supper in
the dining-cah. If y'u miss it, y'u'll feed at some other
chuckhouse." Suddenly the drawl of his sarcasm vanished. His
voice carried the ring of peremptory command. "Jim, y'u go back
to the ranch with Miss Messiter, AND KEEP YOUR EYES OPEN. Missou,
I need y'u. We're going back. I reckon y'u better hang on to the
stirrup, for we got to travel some. Adios, senorita!"
He was off at a slow lope on the road he had just come, the other
man running beside the horse. Presently he stopped, as if the
arrangement were not satisfactory; and the second man swung
behind him on the pony. Later, when she turned in her saddle, she
saw that they had left the road and were cutting across the
plain, as if to take the sharpshooter in the rear.
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