Old Heck chuckled.
"You say you'll turn the Y-Bar cattle over to me within fifteen days?" he asked again, reverting to a study of the paper he held in his hand.
"Yes," Dorsey replied; "is that satisfactory?"
"You're a pretty good sport, after all, Dorsey," Old Heck said quietly. "I'll cash this check"—glancing at the yellow slip of paper—"and this thing, here—we'll just tear it up!" as he reduced the bill of sale to fragments. "Keep your cattle, Dorsey," he added, "ten thousand dollars is enough for you to pay for your lesson!"
Dorsey flushed a dull red.
"I ain't asking—"
"I know you're not," Old Heck interrupted, "and that's the reason I tore up that bill of sale!"
"Old Heck," Dorsey said, his voice trembling, "you're white! I'd like to shake—"
The rival cattlemen gripped hands and the racing feud between the
Quarter Circle KT and the Y-Bar was ended.
A week later Dorsey sent Flip Williams to the Quarter Circle KT. The
Vermejo cowboy led the beautiful black stallion that had mastered
Quicksilver and had in turn been whipped by the Gold Dust maverick.