With one more reluctant glance in the direction of the house he
rode away. When he reached the corral he looked back again. His
gaze showed him the boyish foreman doubled up with laughter; also
the sweep of a white skirt descending from the piazza.

"Now, ain't that hoodooed luck?" the aggrieved rider of the
Triangle Bar outfit demanded of himself, "I made my getaway about
three shakes too soon, by gum!"

Her foreman was in the throes of mirth when Helen Messiter
reached him.

"Include me in the joke," she suggested.

"Oh, I was just thinkin'," he explained inadequately.

"Does it always take you that way?"

"About these boys that drop in so frequent on business these
days. Funny how fond they're getting of the Lazy D. There was
that stock detective happened in yesterday to show how anxious he
was about your cows. Then the two Willow Creek riders that wanted
a job punching for y'u, not to mention mention the Shoshone miner
and the storekeeper from Gimlet Butte and Soapy Sothern and--"

"Still I don't quite see the joke."

"It ain't any joke with them. Serious business, ma'am."