“Go ahead, ride right on,” Nick growled. “I’m just standin’ here. Roy, you want to take it in to your dad, an’ see what he thinks of it?”
“Sure. Let’s go, Teddy. Dad’s in his room, I think.”
At that moment a step sounded at the door, and all turned quickly—more quickly, perhaps, than such an interruption at another time might merit.
“What’s this, a meetin’ of discontented workers?” a voice asked, and chuckled. “Seems to me you might close the screen unless you like bugs.”
“Boss!” Gus exclaimed. “Hey, take a look at this, boss! Just came. By pony express, too.”
“Guy rode up, goin’ like a jack-rabbit,” Nick began, “an’ tossed this here—”
“Just this second,” came from Pop. “I was standin’ by the door, talkin’ to Nick an’ Roy an’ Teddy an’ Gus, an’ I was just sayin’ that these days ain’t like the old days when I fust came here an’ invented the X Bar X brand, when all of a sudden, boss, I heered a pony come tearin’ toward—”
“What in thunderation?” demanded Mr. Manley, taking the paper Teddy held silently out to him. Quickly his eyes ran over the words. As he read his lips closed together tightly. Then he looked up.
“This ain’t a joke?” he asked.
“Not any!” Teddy exclaimed.