CHAPTER XXV.
TED'S INDEPENDENCE.
"Is this the Moon Valley outfit?"
A young cavalry officer galloped up to the head of a beef trail that strung backward for the better part of a mile, the cattle plodding on wearily, guarded by a dozen or more tired and cross cow-punchers.
"It is, lieutenant," answered Ted Strong, eying the epaulets on the officer's tunic, and reading his rank.
The lieutenant was in anything but a pleasant frame of mind, and looked sneeringly at Ted, and at the tired cattle behind him.
"Well, another fifteen minutes' delay would have cost you the contract," he said. "It seems to me that you have been taking your time. Don't you know that a government contract means business, and that to-day doesn't mean to-morrow?"
This was said in such an uppish and unpleasant manner that Ted could scarce restrain an angry reply, for he was tired out with the long drive, which had been unusually full of dangers and vexatious delays.
But instead of making a sharp answer he merely smiled at the officer, and said: