"I've heard of you," the sheriff said, regaining his self-possession.
"I'm sorry to disturb you, ladies--"
Elsie looked at him and quietly said: "I hope you will not be hasty,
sheriff; my father will not sanction violence."
"You're being here makes a difference, miss--of course--I--"
Jennie spoke up: "You must be hungry, Mr. Sheriff," she said, and
smiling up at Calvin, added, "and so are your men. Why not picket your
horses and have some lunch with us?"
Curtis took advantage of the hesitation. "That's the reasonable thing,
men. We can discuss measures at our ease."
The cowboys looked at each other with significant glances. Several began
to dust themselves and to slyly swab their faces with their gay
kerchiefs, and one or two became noticeably redder about the ears as
they looked down at their horses' bridles.
Calvin broke the silence. "I don't let this chance slip, boys. I'm
powerful keen, myself."
"So'm I," echoed several others.
The sheriff coughed. "Well--really--I'm agreeable, but I'm afeerd it'll
be a powerful sight o' trouble, miss."
"Oh no, let us attend to that," cried Jennie. "We shall expect you in
fifteen minutes," and taking Elsie by the arm, she started across the
road.
As the cowboys followed the graceful retreating figures of the girls,
Lawson and Curtis looked at each other with eyes of amazement; Lawson
acknowledged a mighty impulse to laugh. "How unmilitary," he muttered.
"But how effective," replied Curtis, his lips twitching.