Joan stood convulsed with laughter. The pig interested her vastly more than the hen, and she waited the further working of its stupid mind. But she was disappointed. Its momentary confusion had passed, and, lowering its pink snout, it groveled on in search of offal, the delights of which its young mind was just awakening to.
She had moved away to pass on toward the house when she was startled by the sound of a harsh laugh close behind her. She turned and found herself staring into the grinning face of Montana Ike.
She was angry and not without a qualm of apprehension. This man had become a constant caller at the farm at all sorts of odd and unexpected moments. And his attitude was such that she thoroughly resented him. In his vaunting, braggadocio manner he had assumed a sort of proprietary interest in her and her affairs.
The moment she faced him, his confident attitude became more pronounced.
"Comic, ain't it?" he suggested. Then he added, as though to assure her of his appreciation: "Nigh as comic as a cirkis."
But all Joan's delight in the scene was gone. Her beautiful eyes were sparkling angrily. She made up her mind then and there to be rude to the man. She would not have him about the place.
"What do you want?" she inquired bluntly.
The boy's grin remained, but his furtive eyes opened a shade wider.
"Wot do I want? Gee! You're feelin' friendly." Then he put on a manner he intended to be facetious. "An' me left my patch o' pay-dirt, an' all, to pay a 'party' call. Say, Miss Golden, that ain't sassiety ways in this yer camp."
His attempt at pleasantry went for nothing. Joan, studying the man closely, saw that his face was flushed, and, even at that distance, she could smell the drink he had been imbibing. She must get rid of him, but it was not so easy to her gentle nature. However, she took a firm stand.
"Maybe not," she said coldly. "But when people make 'party' calls they generally do it at convenient times. I'm very busy."
The man laughed in the harsh manner she disliked and rather feared.
"Kind o' seemed busy when I got around. Y' see you was sure that busy you didn't hear my hoss comin' along, you never see me git off him an' leave him back ther', an' me come along over an' stand watchin' you doin' nuthin' fer nigh fi' minutes. Oh, you're sure busy!"
Joan flushed. She knew she had lied, but to be told so by this man was infuriating. She made no attempt to further disguise her feelings.