"That's what a nurse is for, Clint. You want to be glad you got the sweetest one in Texas." The Captain patted Ramona affectionately on the shoulder before he passed to the business of the day. "I want to know about all these ructions in Tascosa. Tell me the whole story."
They told him. He listened in silence till they had finished, asked a question or two, and made one comment.
"That boy Roberts of mine is sure some go-getter."
"He'll do," conceded the cattleman. "That lucky shot of his--the one that busted Dinsmore's arm--certainly saved my life later."
"Lucky shot!" exploded Ellison. "And you just through tellin' me how he plugged the dollars in the air! Doggone it, I want you to know there was no darned luck about it! My boys are the best shots in Texas."
"I'll take any one of 'em on soon as I'm out--any time, any place, any mark," retorted Wadley promptly.
"I'll go you. Roberts is a new man an' hasn't had much experience. I'll match him with you."
"New man! H'mp! He's the best you've got, an' you know it."
"I don't know whether he is, but he's good enough to make any old-timer like you look like a plugged nickel."
The cattleman snorted again, disdaining an answer.
"Dad is the best shot in Texas," pronounced Ramona calmly, rallying to her father's support. For years she had been the umpire between the two.
The Captain threw up his hands. "I give up."
"And Mr. Roberts is just about as good."
"That's settled, then," said Ellison. "But what I came to say is that I'm goin' to round up the Dinsmore bunch. We can't convict 'em of murder on the evidence we have, but I'll arrest 'em for shootin' you an' try to get a confession out of one of 'em. Does that look reasonable, Clint?"
Wadley considered this.
"It's worth a try-out. The Dinsmores are game. They won't squeal. But I've a sneakin' notion Gurley is yellow. He might come through--or that other fellow Overstreet might. I don't know him. You want to be careful how you try to take that outfit, though, Jim. They're dangerous as rattlesnakes."
"That's the kind of outfit my boys eat up," answered the chipper little officer as he rose to leave. "Well, so long, Clint. Behave proper, an' mebbe this young tyrant will give you a nice stick o' candy for a good boy."
He went out chuckling.
The cattleman snorted. "Beats all how crazy Jim is about those Ranger boys of his. He thinks the sun rises an' sets by them. I want to tell you they've got to sleep on the trail a long time an' get up early in the mo'nin' to catch the Dinsmores in bed. That bird Pete always has one eye open. What's more, he an' his gang wear their guns low."