"Tell Teresa to give them some supper in the kitchen," Mrs. Nearing instructed, turning again into the house.
"You must excuse Aunt Hope's appearance of inhospitality, Mr. Barrett—both of you. She's been half crazy with neuralgia."
"It's plain that she isn't herself, no apology is necessary," Barrett assured her.
"Don't bother about supper for a couple of ex-wranglers like us, Alma; we'll rustle up something down in the cook-house, we'll open a can of salmon—I know right where to lay my hand on it."
"Ex-wranglers, Fred?" said Alma, surprise big in her voice. "You're not fired, are you?"
"No, I had the honor of resignin' one time in my life. Here comes Manuel now, he'll give you all the accoutrements of the case. Me and Ed we'll go on down to the bunk-house and rustle around/b2"
"I'll fix you some supper myself," Alma stopped him with sweet hospitality. "Mr. Barrett, you are my guest, you are here on"
"Orders," Barrett supplied, quick to express his willingness to serve.
"My orders," she amended. "Put your horses away and come right back to supper, both of you."
"Ordera! her orders!" said Fred, as they went together to unsaddle their horses. "Was she the one that sent for you, Ed?"
"You heard what she said."
"I thought it was Hal Nearing wanted to see you when you said they sent for you to come to the ranch."
