"We'll be short of guards for the next hour or two," he said. "Till the boys get back from Brill's—but they'll be rocking in most any time now."
"What did Alden want?" she asked, referring to the trip from which he and Waddles had returned late the night before.
"We made a call on Carp," he said. "He had some good news we've been waiting for."
"Then Carp is a Three Bar plant," she said.
"He's a U. S. plant," Harris corrected. "But he's been working in with us to get something on Slade—to gather proof that he's behind these squatter raids of the last few years and the ones they've aimed at us up to date. He couldn't get a shred that would hold in court. But Slade is almost through. His claws are clipped."
The girl started to question him as to Carp's activities but after the first sentence she became aware that his attention was riveted on something other than her words. He had thrown up his head like a startled buck and was peering down the valley.
Her range-bred ears caught and correctly interpreted the sound which had roused him. A distant rumble reached her and the surface of the earth seemed to vibrate faintly beneath her feet. She knew the jar for the pounding of thousands of hoofs, the drone for the far-off bawling of frightened cows. A low black line filled the valley from side to side, rushing straight on up the gently-sloping bottoms for the Three Bar flat.
"They're on us," Harris said. "I might have known. Get back to the house—quick!"
As they ran she noticed that his eyes were not upon the surging mass of cows in the valley but were trained on the broken slopes back of the house.
"Anyway, they don't want you," he said. "We'll do the best we can."