But she doesn't care fer him, an' thet settles thet....

An' maybe Joel's leanin' toward the bad." "If she meets him again I'll rope her in the house," declared Bostil.
Another clear-eyed rider drew Bostil's attention from the gray waste of rolling sage.
"Bostil, look! Look at the King! He's watchin' fer somethin'....

An' so's Sarch." The two horses named were facing a ridge some few hundred yards distant, and their heads were aloft and ears straight forward.

Sage King whistled shrilly and Sarchedon began to prance.
"Boys, you'd better drive them in," said Bostil.

"They'd like nothin' so well as gettin' out on the sage....