"Was it your dad who did that?" questioned one of the men in the rear of the crowd.
"It was. This farm was left to my father by Lorimer Spell because my father saved Spell's life on a battlefield in France. My father had a lot of papers to prove his claim, but the papers were stolen from him."
"I heard something about that," said another of the workmen.
"See here! if you fellows are going to believe such a story as these kids are giving you, you can't work for me!" roared Carson Davenport, with a scowl.
"I don't have to work for you if I don't want to," answered one of the workmen quickly and with a scowl.
"See here, Carson Davenport, you let me have a word or two to say!" broke in George Rogers. "I know you just about as well as anybody here. You are the fellow who sold stock in the Yellow Pansy Extension, something that I and a whole lot of others got bit on badly. Maybe you'd like me to rake up that little deal in the courts for you."
"Rats! You don't have to dig up ancient history, Rogers!" growled Davenport; but it was easy to see that the other's words disturbed him not a little.
"I'll dig it up good and plenty if you don't leave these boys alone! I don't know much about 'em, but they seem to be perfectly straightforward, and their father is as nice a man as I ever met."
More words followed, Davenport, as well as Tate and Jackson, doing a lot of grumbling. Once or twice Slugger and Nappy tried to take part, but some of the workmen cut them short, and in the end one crowd moved toward the automobile while the other headed in the opposite direction.
"Well, that's the time matters got pretty hot," was Andy's comment.