"We can go and have a look at what they're doing, and hear what they have to say. I like Braden's nerve, giving orders to keep people off. What the devil does he think this country is? If there wasn't something crooked about the thing he wouldn't mind who took a look at it. I'm going to have a look, anyway."
They rode toward the mountain, eventually striking into the trail which Faith had followed on the preceding day. As they approached they could hear the sounds of work in progress, and suddenly they came upon a man planting posts. A roll of wire lay on the ground. The man stepped into the trail.
"Hold on," he said. "You can't go any further."
"Is that so?" said Rennie. "The trail looks like it went some farther."
"Well, you don't," the other retorted. "Them's orders."
"Whose orders?" Angus asked, crowding forward.
"The boss'—Braden."
"Braden be damned!" said Angus. "Get out of the way. Give me the trail, you, or I'll ride plum' over you!" As he spoke he touched his horse with the heel, and the guardian of the trail gave ground, cursing, but followed them as they rode out on the bench and into the presence of a group of three—Braden, Garland and Poole.
Angus halted, and without paying the least attention to them, took in his surroundings. Then he shifted his gaze to the trio, eying them in a silence which was broken by Mr. Braden.
"What do you want here?" he demanded, in a voice which he endeavored to make stern.