I'm sorry, Mr. Manning, that our coming up here after these
outlaws happened at just this time. It is too bad to so disturb you and
Mrs. Manning. We are going home Friday, however, and I'll tell the boys
to keep clear of your neighborhood in the meantime."
As the two Cross-Triangle men walked toward their horses, Helen and
Stanford heard Phil ask, "But where is that steer, Patches?"
"I let him go," returned Patches.
"You let him go!" exclaimed the foreman. "After you had him roped and
tied? What did you do that for?"
Patches was confused. "Really, I don't know."
"I'd like to know what you figure we're up here for," said Phil,
sharply. "You not only waste two or three hours visiting with these
people, but you take my time trailing you up; and then you turn loose a
steer after you get him. It looks like you'd lost your head mighty bad,
after all."
"I'm afraid you're right, Phil," Patches answered quietly.
Helen looked at her husband indignantly but Stanford was grinning with
delight.
"To think," he murmured, "of Larry Knight taking a dressing-down like
that from a mere cowboy foreman!"
But Patches was by no means so meek in spirit as he appeared in his
outward manner.
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