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Updated: May 27, 2025
Explanations and a broken harness strap mingled painfully in Buddy's memory for a long time afterwards, but the full effect of the beating was lost because Buddy happened to hear Bob Birnie confide to mother that the lad had served the old cattle-thief right, and that any man who could start with one thoroughbred cow and in four years have sufficient increase from that cow to produce eight calves a season, ought to lose them all.
He does it by plantin' his muddy forepaws in three places on the front of her dress and then grabbin' her gold lorgnette playful, breakin' the chain, and runnin' off with the loot. I expect that was only Buddy's idea of letting her know that he welcomed her as a member of the fam'ly in good standin'. But Auntie takes it different.
"What are you afraid of?" asked the voice, and this time it was on the side wall, close to Buddy. "I'm afraid of you!" cried the little boy guinea pig, and he got farther under the bed clothes. "Nonsense! Afraid of me!" exclaimed the voice, and this time, bless me; if it wasn't on the blanket, right over Buddy's nose. "Don't be afraid, little boy," the voice went on.
Buddy's first mistrust was not long in passing, and, once Gray had penetrated his guard, the boy was won completely, the pendulum swung to the opposite extreme, and erelong suspicion changed to liking, then to approval, and at last to open, extravagant admiration.
'Ikky-boy lets loose of Buddy's collar and stares at me impish. "Young man," says I severe, "I want you to lay off that slang stuff. Ditch it. It ain't lady like or refined. And in future when you converse with your parents see that you do it respectful and proper. Get me?" At which 'Ikky-boy looks bored. "Whee!" he remarks boisterous, makin' a grab for Buddy's stubby tail and missin' it.
"Bud's going to have charge of Rambler while we're gone," he explained seriously. "I want to be sure he's in good hands." The two men watched Buddy's departure for the house, and grinned over the manifest struggle between his haste to tell his mother and Jo, and his sense of importance over the trust.
"Oh, and can I go?" Buddy's voice was shrill with eagerness. "I'll need you, lad, to look after the horses. It will give me one more hand with the cattle. Now go tell Step-and-a-Half to make ready for a week on the trail, and to have supper early so he can make his start with the rest."
Still, Buddy was too hard-headed to assume easily that angels had driven the horses up the creek so that he would have to ride up there and discover the Indian fires. If angels could do that, why hadn't they stopped Colorou from going on the warpath? It would have been simpler, in Buddy's opinion. He did not mention the angel problem to his father, however.
A gust of anger swept Buddy's soul because he was tired, because he was hungry and he was yet a long way from the camp, but chiefly because Ezra persisted in calling after Buddy had several times answered.
He rose unsteadily, but, meeting Buddy's threatening gaze and realizing the impossibility of getting past him, he cried: "Let me out of here! Let me out, damn you! I I'll get you for this, Gray. Let me out, I tell you!" "Buddy!" Gray jerked his head in the direction of the door to one of the adjoining offices. "He keeps a gun in his desk top drawer. Get it before me makes a fool of himself."
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