“What about the lay of the country?” Sims finally asked of the scout.
“Dead ahead is the big ford, but that is what the punchers have protected. I could see that either up or down from the ford the water’s deep, because there ain’t no bottoms there—the bank’s right on top of the river.”
“Where is the next nearest ford?”
“Ten miles northeast, this season of the year,” was the reply.
“Thunderation, boss, what’ll we do?” inquired Sims petulantly.
“Call Lester, and we three will talk it over,” said Bud, a half-formed plan already in his mind.
Presently the three were alone and discussing the situation. Bud proposed his scheme and outlined it clearly. For perhaps a quarter of an hour he talked, interrupted by the eager, enthusiastic exclamations of Lester. When he had finished, Sims lay back on his two elbows and regarded his employer. 269
“If yuh keep on this-a-way, boss,” he remarked, “I allow we might let yuh herd a few lambs next spring, seein’ yuh will learn the sheep business.”
Bud grinned at the other’s compliment and noted Lester’s enthusiasm. Then they plunged into the details.
“Better ride your horse around by way of the ford ten miles away,” were the instructions as Lester saddled up. “Then you can come at ’em by the rear.”