"Oh," she cried breathlessly, "you remember that herder you told not to come in here? He's up in the glen now. I've just seen him. I told him to go, but he won't. He laughed."
Rob walked to the door. "Will dinner be ready by twelve, sis?"
"I guess so. Why?"
"I'm hungry," he said quietly. "It's eleven now."
Harry stared at him. "You aren't going up there?"
"Yes, after dinner. He'll be there until then, won't he? If I knew where to find the camp tender, I'd tell him a thing or two about that herder—make the whole outfit clear out. I don't care if Joyce has put him on the next homestead, I filed here first, and he has no right to put the man on there, anyway. I don't know whether there's any law in this country, but if there is——"
He left the tent abruptly.
Harry began mechanically to get dinner. When it was ready, she blew the horn and Rob came in. He said nothing about the sheep herder, but ate his dinner calmly. At the end of the noon hour he rose, went to the door, and stood looking out.
"I don't know how I'm going to keep those fellows off," he said, half to himself. "I can't let my work go, to be chasing them all the time." He pushed up his hat and scratched his head dubiously.
"Of course not; but if they're going to ruin our drinking water and eat all the grass——"