"Braden fixed them, did he?" the other deduced. "Knocked the loan, hey? Knocked you as a borrower! Shoved you to the wall. Thinks he'll bid the place in. Anybody else want it? No—or you'd have made some deal."
"That's about the size of it," Angus admitted, surprised at the swift accuracy of these deductions.
"Will it leave you stranded?"
"Nearly. Not quite."
"Folks depending on you?"
"Yes."
"Why don't you tell me to mind my own darn business?"
"I came near it," Angus admitted; "but you look as if you know enough to do that without being told."
The stout man chuckled. "I think I do, myself. If I had known of this place before I'd have made you some sort of an offer for it. As it is, I'll go to that sale to-morrow. Good day. Drive on, Floyd."
Angus watched them drive away and turned back to the house. It seemed that Braden might have opposition, and apart from financial reasons he was glad of it. The strangers did not look like ranchers. Speculators, likely. Anyway, it had not taken the stout fellow long to size Braden up. But if he could have overheard the conversation between the two strangers as they drove away he would have been more surprised at the accuracy of their mental workings.