"Where does Joe Parker live?" asked Dave, with interest.
"We'll pass his house in a minit. There it is—over yonder, by the willer trees."
"Let me off a minute at that place," went on Dave.
"That's the talk!" cried Roger, catching Dave's idea. "We'll put a spoke in Pludding's wheel—if he is the rival cattle dealer."
Arriving at the Parker cottage, Dave and Roger leaped down in the snow and knocked on the door. A heavy-set and rather pleasant-looking man answered their summons.
"Is this Mr. Joseph Parker?" asked Dave.
"That's my handle, lad. What can I do for you? Will you come in?"
"No, Mr. Parker—I haven't time. I wanted to ask you, do you know a Mr. Isaac Pludding?"
At this question the brow of Joe Parker darkened.
"I certainly do."