“Hey? You leave that cat alone or he'll scratch yuh. Blake, if you can't see—”
“He! He's a her and her name's Adeline. Where's the boys, Uncle Gee-gee?”
“Hey? Oh, away down in the breaks after their cattle that got away. You keep still and never mind where they've gone.” His mind swung back to the Happy Family, combing the breaks for their stock and the stock of the nesters, with an average of one saddle-horse apiece and a camp outfit of the most primitive sort—if they had any at all, which he doubted. The Old Man had eased too many roundups through that rough country not to realize keenly the difficulties of the Happy Family.
“They need horses,” he groaned to Blake, “and they need help. If you knowed the country and the work as well as I do you'd know they've got to have horses and help. And there's their claims—fellers squatting down on every eighty—four different nesters fer every doggoned one of the bunch to handle! And you tell me I got to set here and not lift a hand. You tell me I can't put men to work on that fence they want built. You tell me I can't lend 'em so much as a horse!”
Blake nodded. “I tell you that, and I emphasize it,” he assured the other, brushing off another half inch of ash from his cigar. “If you want to help those boys hold their land, you must not move a finger.”
“He's wiggling all of 'em!” accused the Kid sternly, and pointed to the Old Man drumming irritatedly upon his chair arms. “He don't want to help the boys, but I do. I'll help 'em get their cattle, Mr. Blake. I'm one of the bunch anyway. I'll lend 'em my string.”
“You've been told before not to butt in to grownup talk,” his uncle reproved him irascibly. “Now you cut it out. And take that string off'n that cat!” he added harshly. “Dell! Come and look after this kid! Doggone it, a man can't talk five minutes—”
The Kid giggled irrepressibly. “That's one on you, old man. You saw Doctor Dell go away a long time ago. Think she can hear yuh when she's away up on the bench?”
“You go on off and play!” commanded the Old Man. “I dunno what yuh want to pester a feller to death for—and say! Take that string off'n that cat!”
“Aw gwan! It ain't hurting the cat. She likes it.” He lifted the kitten and squeezed her till she yowled. “See? She said yes, she likes it.”