Caught!

Kent pushed his hat far back on his head and sat down upon a corner of the table. "Such is life in the far West--and the farther West you go, the livelier--" he began to declaim dutifully.

"The livelier it gets. Yes, I've heard that a million tunes, I believe. I can't laugh at that; I never did think it funny." She sighed, and twitched her shoulders impatiently because of it. "I see you brought back the glasses," she remarked inanely. "You certainly weren't in any great hurry, were you?"

"Oh, they had us riding over east of the home ranch, hazing in some outa the hills. I'm supposed to be over there right now--but I ain't. I expect I'll get the can, all right--"

"If you're going away, what do you care?" she taunted.

"H'm--sure, what do I care?" He eyed her from under his brows while he bent to light a match upon the sole of his boot. Val had long ago settled his compunctions about smoking in her presence. "You seem to be all tore up, here," he observed irrelevantly. "Cleaning house?"

"Yes--cleaning house." Val smiled ambiguously.

"Hubby in town?"

"Yes--he went in yesterday, and hasn't come back yet."

Kent smoked for a moment meditatively. "I found that calf, all right," he informed her at last. "It was too late to ride around this way and tell you that night. So you needn't worry any more about that."