In the end he shrugged.
"My orders," he said finally, "was simply to haze them steers back to
the Big Bend. The ol' man didn't say nothin' about startin' anything
if you got unreasonable." Again he shrugged elaborately. "I'll come
again if he says so," he concluded and, jabbing his spurs viciously
into his horse's flanks, his sole sign of irritation, Blenham rode away
through the woods.
"He let go too easy," murmured Terry. "He's got a card in the hole
yet."
Her eyes followed the departing rider, she pursed her lips after him.
Steve turned and looked down upon her.
"I hope you don't mind if I trespass to the extent of riding after
those steers?" he offered. "I want to drive them back and at the same
time I don't mind making sure that Blenham is still on his way."
Terry regarded him long and searchingly.
"Go ahead," she said at last. And, as though an explanation were
necessary, she continued: "There's just one animal I hate worse than I
do a Packard! For once the fence is down between you and Temple land,
Steve Packard."
"Let's keep it down!" he said impulsively. "You and I----"
"No, thanks!" Terry rose swiftly to her feet, balancing on her log,
reminding him oddly of a bright bird about to take flight. "You just
remember that there's just one animal I hate _almost_ as much as I do
Blenham; and that that's a Packard.
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