The joy of that meeting, it seemed to Ben Swann, was decidedly one-sided.
Kate ran to Joan with a little wailing cry of happiness and gathered her
close, but neither big Lee Haines nor ugly Buck Daniels seemed overcome
with happiness at the regaining of Joan, and the child herself merely
endured the caresses of her mother. Ben Swann made them a speech.
He told them that anybody with half an eye could tell they were bothered by
something, that they acted as if they were running away. Now, running in
itself was perfectly all right and quite in order when it was impossible to
outface or outbluff a danger. He himself, Ben Swann, believed in such
tactics. He wasn't a soldier; he was a cowpuncher. So were the rest of the
boys out yonder, and though they'd stay by their work in ordinary times,
and they'd face ordinary trouble, they were not minded to abide the coming
of Dan Barry.
"So," concluded Swann, "I want to ask you straight. Is him they call
Whistlin' Dan comin' this way? Are you runnin' from him? And did you steal
the kid from him?"
Lee Haines took upon his competent shoulders the duty of answering.
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