"Erbout runnin' us off'n ther reservation."
"They'd have a fine chance to do that," said Ted, laughing.
"It seems they hev some sort o' a club, ther 'Flyin' somethin' er other'—I couldn't jest catch what. To hear them fellers talk they're holy terrors."
"How do they propose to run us off? Did you hear that?"
"No; they didn't discuss ways an' means, but they said as how ther boss, they mentioned his name, but it's clear got erway from me, hed riz up on his hind legs an' hed give it out straight to ther gang thet ez long ez we wuz in ther country they couldn't do no good fer theirselfs, consequentially we must skidoo, ez they needed this part o' ther country fer their own elbowroom. They wuz real sassy erbout it, too."
"I suppose they thought all they had to do was to serve notice on us, and we'd vacate."
"I reckon thet's ther way they hed it chalked up."
"Well, that bears out what Billy Sudden told me to-night after we were shot at."
Then Ted related what Billy had told him about Skip Riley and his influence on the boys of Soldier Butte and Strongburg.
"Thet thar's ther very feller they wuz talkin' erbout, thet Skip Riley. Now I recolict it, an' ther name o' their sweet-scented aggergation is ther 'Flyin' Demons.'"