Roy was his usual dry, genial self.

And Auchincloss, who sat near by, was an interested spectator.

When Tom put in an appearance, lounging with his feline grace into the camp, as if he knew he was a privileged pet, the rancher could scarcely contain himself.
"Dale, it's thet damn cougar!" he ejaculated.
"Sure, that's Tom." "He ought to be corralled or chained.

I've no use for cougars," protested Al.
"Tom is as tame an' safe as a kitten." "A-huh! Wal, you tell thet to the girls if you like.

But not me! I'm an old hoss, I am." "Uncle Al, Tom sleeps curled up at the foot of my bed," said Bo.
"Aw--what ?" "Honest Injun," she responded.