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Show Page 18 of anyone being cruel to her calf and the sight made her furious. She flew at the man in a rage, lashing him about the head and face with her quirt. "Why you little hellion!" exclaimed the dumbfounded cowboy, a man named Roark. "What you quirting me for? What's the matter with you anyhow?" "You leave my Dixie Burr alone, you bully," panted Ann, continuing to swing wildly. "Cursed wildcat," said the cowhand becoming angry from the beating he was taking. "I don't even know what you're sore about. But it sure looks like you could use a lesson in manners, and that's just what I'm aiming to give you." "That's my calf you're whipping," grunted Ann, struggling to keep her balance in the saddle. "Think you can whip me too?" The cowhand was about to show Ann that, yes, he could whip her too, when Joe Martin, a cowpoke who was working in the area, stepped out of the crowd that had gathered to watch the excitement. "That's enough!" he shouted. "Roark, get your hands off Miss Ann!" "Tried to kill me she did," Roark replied sullenly. "He was stealing my calf," squealed Ann, still furious at the cowhand who had not only taken her beloved calf, but who had dared to try and discipline the hot-headed girl. "That Dixie Burr is mine!" |