human
Well you're the second one this morning; what do _you_ want?
gpt
He swept the Stetson from his head:
human
I'm afoot, he answered, simply,
gpt
I'd like to borrow a horse.
human
This is McWhorter's outfit,
gpt
Benton's my name--Tex Benton, range foreman of the Y Bar. And, is this Mrs. McWhorter?
human
The Y Bar! exclaimed the girl, and Tex noticed that the gleam and surprise hardened into a glance of open skepticism.
gpt
Who owns the Y Bar, now?
human
Same man that's owned it for the last twenty years--Mr. Colston.
gpt
You must know him pretty well if you're his foreman?
human
Tolerable, answered the man,
gpt
I've been with him most every day for a year.
human
I wonder what's worrying him most, nowadays--Mr. Colston, I mean.
gpt
Worryin' him? The Texan's eyes twinkled.
human
Well, a man runnin' an outfit like the Y Bar has got plenty on his mind, but the only thing that right down worries him is the hair on his head--an' just between you an' me, he ain't goin' to have to worry long.
gpt
I'll answer your question now, she said.
human
I'm Mrs. Nobody, thank you--I'm Janet McWhorter. But what are you doing on this side of the river? And how's Mr. Colston?
gpt
He's just the finest ever, replied the cowboy, and the girl was quick to note the deep feeling behind the words.
human
An' I--two of us--were tryin' to cross on the Long Bill's ferry from Timber City, an' the drift piled up again' us so we had to cut the cable, an' we got throw'd into shore against the bench three or four miles above here.
gpt
Where's your friend? Is he hurt?
human
No, not hurt I reckon. Just plumb wore out, an' layin' asleep on the bank. I've got to go back.
gpt
You'll need two horses.
human
No, only one. We had our horses with us. We lost one in the river, an' the other pulled us ashore, an' then beat it up the coulee. I can catch him up all right, if I can get holt of a horse.
gpt
Of course you can have a horse! But, you must eat first----
human
I can't stop. There'll be time for that later. I'm goin' to bring--my friend back here.
gpt
Of course you're going to bring him back here! But you are about all in yourself. Three or four miles through the mud and across the coulees in high-heeled boots, and with your head hurt, and sopping wet, and no breakfast, and--I bet you haven't even had a smoke! Come on, you can eat a bite while I fix up something for your friend, and then you can tackle some of Dad's tobacco. I guess it's awful strong but it will make smoke--clouds of it!
human
Curious she'd think of me not havin' a smoke,