“But can’t we do something?” Ned demanded. “Wouldn’t it be great if we got on the track of the thieves as easily as this?”
“It would be, only it’s too good to be true,” said Jerry. “But wait a bit. As long as he’s talking as loudly as he is no one can call it impolite if we stand here and listen. Just see if we need any of these railway time-tables,” and he directed the attention of his chums to a rack of folders near the hotel desk. Taking out some of them, and pretending to look them over, gave a good excuse for lingering within hearing distance of the flashily dressed man who had announced he was a cattle buyer.
“So you’re going to get some of the Square Z stock; eh?” asked the man to whom the bediamonded one had spoken. “I do a little in that way myself, but the Square Z prices are too high for me. I can do better in other markets.”
“Too high! I don’t call what I pay too high!” boasted the speaker and he named a price “on the hoof” at which the other man exclaimed:
“Is that all you’re paying?”
“That’s all. I tell you it takes little ol’ Sid Munson to get the best of a deal!” and he patted his inflated chest in satisfaction.
“Munson, eh?” mused the other. “So that’s your name. I haven’t heard of you in the cattle business before. My name’s Johnson—Ed Johnson, and I’m from Omaha. But I want to tell you one thing, Mr. Munson, and I say it in all friendliness. If you’re only paying that much for cattle there’s something crooked somewhere.”
“Something crooked? What do you mean?” and the voice of Mr. Munson expressed an amazement as great as was the surprise of the boys who were listening near the time-table rack.
“Oh, I don’t mean you, so don’t get roiled,” was the quiet response of Mr. Johnson. “I mean that the price you mentioned is lower than the lowest market quotations on live cattle that I’ve ever known, and there must be an African gentleman concealed somewhere in the fuel heap, as the poet says. I mean, if they’re quoting that price to you they must have an object in it. Maybe the cattle aren’t A, number one.”
“But they are!” exclaimed Munson. “I know, for I sold ’em at a good profit.”