"And Red-head's gone crazy over them," exclaimed Dunk. "You ought to see the fine little machine he made a couple of months ago. He made it just from reading about them in books, and it was a dandy too. Of course it wouldn't fly, but it looked just like an aeroplane."
"I'd rather see a real one than find a silver mine," announced young Giles promptly. "But nothin' doin' in airships on this plateau."
"They're great," broke in Windham. "I've seen a lot of them. Who's Tender Gray?" he concluded with boyish curiosity, recalling that Fly had mentioned another lad.
"Oh," answered Dunk Rivers, Jerry being busy with the horses, "he's a cousin of Herb Phipps. Mr. Phipps is the richest man in this part of the country. I guess he's a millionaire. They live over here about five miles east on the big home ranch. Mr. Phipps goes in for sheep you know. But he's got a lot of sheep ranches, and mines too. They call the one over east the B. P. ranch. That's the brand too. Of course it means Brett Phipps, Mr. Phipps' name. But we all call it the Bread Pudding ranch."
"What's the cousin's name?" went on Windham, pulling off his light straw hat to keep it from blowing away as the big freight wagon rolled upward on the mountain road.
"Oh," answered Dunk, "he's Tender Gray. His name's Howard Graystock. We call him Tender Gray because he's what they call a Boy Scout up there in New York."
"Boy Scout," almost shouted Windham. "Why, I'm one of them myself. I want to know Graystock, you bet."
"That won't be hard to do," broke in Fly. "Him and Herb are over to the Post about half the time. And anyway, we're to go over to the B. P. to-morrow."
"I suppose you call him Tender Gray because he's a tenderfoot scout," remarked Windham.
"I reckon," chuckled Duncan. "That or because he's tender on the subject of Boy Scouts. He's sure a bug on that question. But you'll like both the B. P. kids. Herb goes to college every winter."