“You certainly ought to let the people at Double Eight Ranch know what sort Jasniff is!” cried Roger.
“Of course, I can’t prove that he took the money,” returned Dave. “There were no witnesses to what occurred, and I suppose he would claim that his word was as good as mine.”
“But we know it isn’t!” burst out the senator’s son indignantly. “He’s a rascal, and I intend that everybody around here shall know it!”
“You certainly had your share of happenings,” was Mr. Obray’s comment. “It was bad enough to have the fight with Jasniff without running afoul of that wildcat. You ought to have brought him down with your pistol, as you did that rattlesnake,” and he smiled broadly.
“I didn’t get a chance for a shot,” explained Dave. “I had to grab the horse for fear he would run away and leave me to walk to the camp. And besides, the wildcat moved about as quickly as I can tell about it.”
“Maybe we can form a party and round the wildcat up,” put in Roger eagerly.
“I was thinking of that, Roger.”
Of course Dave had to tell Frank Andrews about the encounter with Jasniff and also about meeting the wildcat. Several others were present when the story was retold, and soon nearly everybody in the camp was aware of what had taken place.
“I certainly hope you get your money back,” remarked Larry Bond. “Gracious! I wouldn’t like to lose forty-odd dollars out of my pay! I couldn’t afford it.”
“We’ll have to round up that bobcat some day,” said old John Hixon. “If we manage to kill him off, it will discourage others from coming to this neighborhood.”