"I'm a good waiter," Dave told him. Then, speaking to Crow, he galloped off through the gathering darkness.
On reaching the ranch Dave found that Mr. Bellmore was very comfortable. Mr. Carson had applied rough and ready, but effective treatment to the injured ankle, and the two men were deep in a talk of irrigation matters when Dave entered the room.
"Back again, son?" remarked Mr. Carson, and there was no hesitancy in his endearing tone. For of course he had known, all along, that Dave was not his son, though, as he had said, he so loved and so regarded him.
"Yes—Dad, back. Perkins sent word about that bunch he was speaking of," and he delivered the message left with Pocus Pete.
"Well, Dave, you have done a good day's work since morning," commented Mr.
Carson.
"You saved that valuable bunch of special cattle, and you bring me as a guest a man, who, I think, can do me a lot of good."
"I'm glad to hear it, Dad!"
"Yes, your father and I have been talking irrigation, Dave," said Mr. Bellmore, who had taken a sudden liking to the young cowboy. And to himself Dave could not but admit that the more he saw of Mr. Bellmore the better he liked him. "We think we can get together on this irrigation project," the Chicago man went on.
"Of course that is if we can deal with Molick," suggested the ranchman.
"Oh, yes, it depends a great deal on Molick," Mr. Bellmore admitted.