Quigley laughed, and then looked at the proprietor: "Pop, we ain't forgettin'. We both has bought, an' it usually goes th' rounds before it stops."
"Oh, I'll set 'em up," growled Pop.
"You ranchin', Mr. Quigley?" asked Johnny.
"Well, I am, an' I ain't," answered Quigley. "I'm farmin' an' ranchin' both, on a small scale. I got a few head, but not enough to give me much bother. We sort of let 'em look after themselves."
"Oh," said Johnny regretfully. "I thought mebby if I got tired of prospectin', an' short of cash, that I might get a job with you."
"I ain't got cows enough to keep me busy," explained Quigley. "We let 'em wander, an' get 'em as we need 'em. Well," he said, turning as if to leave, "I'm sorry about that fool break of mine, Mr. Nelson; an' to prove it I'm goin' to give you some real good advice: Keep away from th' Twin Buttes country. So long, boys."
Johnny looked after him, and then faced Pop, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't quite get th' drift of that," he said slowly; "but he ought to know th' country he lives in. I'll try Devil's Gap first; but I got a cussed strong notion not to!"
Pop sighed with relief. "Let's go over an' see what Charley's got for yore kit," he suggested.
Charley James was playing solitaire on a box laid across a nail keg and he smiled a welcome as they entered.