"There will be more than that many turned over to you before winter," said Johnny. "Cattle stealin' don't go very long down here, even. Now, don't ask me nothin' about it; but I'm wishin' you'd give me authority to act for you in any little thing that might come up—I might not have time to ride out here for it, then."
"Why, certainly; and I'll be glad to have somebody act for me who knows what to do," replied Arnold.
"All right. I'm advisin' you to tell Cimarron to go ahead with that little trail herd. I'm goin' out that way now, an' I'll speak to him about it if you want me to."
"I think that is a splendid idea," enthused Margaret. "If we did not sell them, they will be a year older next year, and we will have to sell them then, anyhow."
"All right!" grunted Arnold. "Sell them. I don't care what is done, if only I can get out of this cursed bed. And I'll be out of it tomorrow or know the reason why!"
"We'd better have th' Doc come out an' look at it," said Johnny. "I'll be ridin' to town purty soon an' I'll drop in an' tell him. He shore ought to finish what he started."
Margaret's hand went to his arm. "Please!" she pleaded. "Don't—don't have any trouble—we—father can wait a little longer, I'm sure."
"I certainly can, Nelson," quickly spoke up the quasi-invalid, "if it will save you from any trouble. I don't know just how much I would do for you."
"There won't be no trouble, at all," Johnny gravely assured them. "Doc an' I know each other real well. You've got no idea how well we get along together. You'd be surprised if you only knowed how prompt he'll start for here. Why, trouble with me over a little thing like this is th' last thing he'd think of. You just stay where you are till he sees you an' says you can get up."