"Nothin'. But his mother runs a right comf'table eatin'-house over to Stacey. She's a right fine woman. I knew her when she was wearin' her hair in a braid."
"I have stopped there. It's a neat place. Would you take the boy on if you were in my place?"
Bud coughed and studied the ends of his blunt fingers. "Well, now, John, if I was in your place, I could tell you."
Torrance was amused and rather pleased. Bud's careful evasion was characteristic. He would do nothing hastily. Moreover, with Shoop as supervisor, it was safe to assume that the natives would hesitate to attempt their usual subterfuges in regard to grazing-leases. Bud was too well known for that. Torrance had had trouble with the cattlemen and sheepmen. He knew that Shoop's mere name would obviate much argument and bickering.
"The White Mountain Apaches are eating a lot of beef these days," he said suddenly.
Shoop grinned. "And it ain't all Gov'ment beef, neither. The line fence crost Still Cañon is down. They's been a fire up on the shoulder of Ole Baldy—nothin' much, though. Your telephone line to the lookout is saggin' bad over by Sheep Crossin'. Some steer'll come along and take it with him in a hurry one of these days. A grizzly killed a yearlin' over by the Milk Ranch about a week ago. I seen your ranger, young Winslow, day before yesterday. He says somebody has been grazin' sheep on the posted country, west. He was after 'em. The grass is pretty good on the Blue. The Apaches been killin' wild turkey on the wrong side of their line. I seen their tracks—and some feathers. They's some down timber along the north side of the creek over on the meadows. And a couple of wimmin was held up over by the Notch the other day. I ain't heard the partic'lars. Young Adams—"
"Where do you get it all, Bud? Only two of the things you mentioned have been reported in to this office."
"Who, me? Huh! Well, now, John, that's just the run of news that floats in when you're movin' around the country. If I was to set out to get info'mation—"
"You'd swamp the office. All right. I'll have my clerk draft a letter of application. You can sign it. I'll add my word. It will take some time to put this through, if it goes through. I don't promise anything. Come in at noon and sign the letter. Then you might drop in in about two weeks; say Saturday morning. We'll have heard something by then."
Bud beamed. "I'll do that. And while I'm waitin' I'll ride over some of that country up there and look around."