But when Steve came back and slipped his feet into his boots and sat
down across the table from her, Terry's face told him nothing.
"You're a funny guy, Steve Packard," she admitted thoughtfully.
"That's nothing," grinned Steve, by now quite himself again. "So are
you!"
She had come from the Temple ranch without any hat; her hair had
tumbled down long ago and now framed her vivacious face most adorably.
Adorably, that is, to a man's mind; other women are not always agreed
upon such matters. At any rate, Steve watched with both admiration and
regret in his eyes as Terry shook out the loose bronze tresses and
began to bring neat order out of bewilderingly becoming chaos. Her
mouth was full of pins when Bill Royce came in. But still she could
whisper tantalizingly--
"If you picked on Bill for a chaperon because he's blind----"
Royce stopped in the doorway.
"That you, Terry Temple?" he asked. "An' you wanted me? What's up?"
"I came to have a talk with Steve Packard," answered Terry promptly.
She got up and took Royce's hands between hers and led him to a chair
before she relinquished them. And before she went back to her own
place she had said swiftly:
"I haven't seen you since you licked Blenham. I--I am glad you got
your chance, Bill."
"Thank you, Miss Terry," said Royce quietly. "I sorta evened up things
with him.
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