“I seen one,” MacAndrews exclaimed with an angry glare, “but he ain’t gone by yet.”
The others snorted their amusement and Foster turned red. “I’ve lost mine,” he mumbled as he apologetically backed into the brush.
“Better keep him away from here,” Mac shouted after him. “We’ll tie a can on him pretty quick.”
Before Foster succeeded in breaking through the brush beside the road his flush had changed to a deadly pallor.
“Who is that cuss?” MacAndrews demanded with a vicious snap of his jaws.
“That is Foster Wait,” Scott said.
“Well, he is hanging around here more than is good for his health. He scared that team on purpose.”
“I thought so, too,” Scott exclaimed, and he added a little anxiously, “did you say he had been around here before?”
“Turns up somewhere around the job almost every day. He’ll come once too often some day. I expect that team is ruined.”
Scott had been so absorbed in Foster Wait that he had forgotten the team for a moment. Now he found that Jimmy had run down the mountain in search of them, and he followed as fast as he could run.