Lassiter, put our saddle-bags on the burros." Only when Lassiter moved swiftly to execute her bidding did Venters's clogged brain grasp at literal meanings.

He leaped to catch Lassiter's busy hands.
"No, no! What are you doing ?" he demanded, in a kind of fury.

"I won't take her racers.

What do you think I am?
It'd be monstrous.

Lassiter! stop it, I say!...