CHAPTER XI. BARBARA RELEASES A CONSPIRATOR
IT was a week later, yet Grayson still was growling about the loss of “that there Brazos pony.” Grayson, the boss, and the boss's daughter were sitting upon the veranda of the ranchhouse when the foreman reverted to the subject.
“I knew I didn't have no business hirin' a man thet can't ride,” he said. “Why thet there Brazos pony never did stumble, an' if he'd of stumbled he'd a-stood aroun' a year waitin' to be caught up agin. I jest cain't figger it out no ways how thet there tenderfoot bookkeeper lost him. He must a-shooed him away with a stick. An' saddle an' bridle an' all gone too. Doggone it!”
“I'm the one who should be peeved,” spoke up the girl with a wry smile. “Brazos was my pony. He's the one you picked out for me to ride while I am
