"You talk queer." "Shore, dad, y'u're not used to hearing spades called spades," said Ellen, as she dismounted.
"Humph!" ejaculated her father, as if convinced of the uselessness of trying to understand a woman.

"Say, did you see any strange horse tracks ?" "I reckon I did.

And I know who made them." Jorth stiffened.

All the men behind him showed a sudden intensity of suspense.
"Who ?" demanded Jorth.
"Shore it was Jean Isbel," replied Ellen, coolly.

"He came up heah tracking his black horse." "Jean--Isbel--trackin'-- his--black horse," repeated her father.
"Yes.