He drew up and turned in the saddle to look back. Levitt was gone. "I wish I knew what he has on the Venables." He scowled. "You don't suppose she really likes him, do you?"
Mabry shrugged. "Sometimes I can guess what a steer will do, and I've even outguessed a wild bronc or two, but keep me away from women. I never could read the sign right, and every time I think I've got one figured, she crosses me up."
(from Where the Long Grass Blows, by Louis L'Amour)
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