Buck frowned, and then, conscious of the watching McCabe, his face cleared and he laughed.
"He must have got me wrong, Miss Ma--er--Thorne," he returned lightly. "Perhaps he's heard me grumbling a bit; cow-men do that from force of habit sometimes, you know. But I've nothing to complain of about the work, and certainly I had no idea of quitting."
Her face cleared amazingly. "I'm so glad," she said in a relieved tone. "I suppose I seem fussy, but now and then the problem of help gets to be a regular nightmare. Once or twice lately I've been afraid I was making a terrible mess of things, and might, after all, have to accept one of the offers I've had for the ranch. I should hate dreadfully to leave here, but if I can't make it pay--"
She finished with a shrug. Stratton regarded her thoughtfully. "You've had several offers?" he asked hesitatingly, wondering whether she would think the question an impertinence.
Apparently she didn't. "Two; really most awfully good ones. Indeed, Tex strongly advised me to sell out and buy another outfit if I still wanted to ranch. But I don't want another one. It's the Shoe-Bar I'm so keen about because of-- But I really mustn't keep you. Thank you so much for relieving my mind. When Tex comes in I'll tell him he was mistaken."
Buck hesitated for an instant. "It might be better not to say anything about it," he suggested. "Some foremen don't like the least bit of interference, you know. Suppose we just let it go, and if he brings up the subject to me, I'll tell him he got me wrong."
"Very well. It doesn't make any difference so long as you're staying. Good-by."
With a little gesture of farewell, she walked away toward the ranch-house, leaving Stratton to return to where McCabe fidgeted beside the horses. There was no time for deliberate reasoning or planning. Buck only felt sure that Lynch was up to something underhand, and when Slim, with almost too great a casualness, inquired what it was all about, he obeyed a strong impulse and lied.
"Oh, it's Bemis," he shrugged, as they rode off together. "He's fretting to get away. Lost his nerve, I reckon, and wants to pull out. She wanted to know how long I thought it would be before he could back a horse. I s'pose he might chance it in about a week, but I'm hanged if I can see why he's in such a rush. He's sure got it soft enough here."