“I was ridin’ in to the house to see you, ma’am. I thought you ought to know. This mornin’ the boys found two cows with their hoofs burned, an’ their calves run off.”
“Their hoofs burned!” she exclaimed. “Why, who would be so inhuman as to do that? But I suppose there was a fire somewhere, and it happened that way.”
“There was a fire, all right,” he said grimly. “Some one built it, on purpose. It was rustlers, ma’am. They burned the hoofs of the mothers so the mothers couldn’t follow when they drove their calves off—like any mother would.” He eyed her calmly. “I reckon it was Chavis, ma’am. He’s got a shack down the crick a ways. He’s been there ever since you paid him off. An’ this mornin’ two of the boys told me they wanted their time. I was goin’ in to get it for them. It’s likely they’re goin’ to join Chavis.”
“Well, let them,” she said indignantly. “If they are that kind of men, we don’t want them around!”
He smiled now for the first time. “I reckon there ain’t no way to stop them from goin’, ma’am. An’ we sure don’t want them around. But when they go with Chavis, it’s mighty likely that we’ll miss more cattle.”
She stiffened. “Come with me,” she ordered; “they shall have their money right away.”
She urged her pony on, and he fell in beside her, keeping his animal’s muzzle near her stirrup. For he was merely an employee and was filled with respect for her.
“I suppose I could have Chavis charged with stealing those two calves?” she asked, as they rode. She looked back over her shoulder at him and slowed her pony down so that he came alongside.
“Why, yes, ma’am, I reckon you could. You could charge him with stealin’ them. But that wouldn’t prove it. We ain’t got any evidence, you see. We found the cows, with the calves gone. We know that Chavis is in the country, but we didn’t see him doin’ the stealin’; we only think he done it.”