The Sheriff's Son
—thought it a sort of distinction to give me that name. I 've never much liked it."
The girl spoke to the young man beside her. "Mr. Street helped me out of the trap and lent me his horse to get home. I hurt my leg." She proceeded to introductions. "Mr. Street, this is my brother, Jeff Rutherford."
Jeff nodded curtly. He happened to be dismounting, so he did not offer to shake hands. Over the back of the horse he looked at his sister's guest without comment. Again he seemed to dismiss him from his mind as of no importance. When he spoke, it was to Beulah.
"That's a fool business—stepping into wolf traps. How did you come to do it?"
"It does n't matter how. I did it."
"Hurt any?"
She swung from the saddle and limped a few steps. "Nothing to make any fuss about. Dad home?"
"Yep. Set the trap again after you sprung it, Boots?"
"No. Set your own traps," she flung over her shoulder. "This way, Mr. Street."
Roy followed her to the house and was ushered into a room where a young man sat cleaning a revolver with one leg thrown across a second
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