“Say,” he began, “is ‘saddle’ spelt ‘a-l’ or ‘e-l’?”
“The ‘X’ is silent, like in fish,” Teddy replied. “What are you doing, Bug Eye? Writing notes to the cows?”
“Not any,” came from the puncher, as he stretched and yawned widely. “The boss has got me to figerin’ out how much stuff we lost durin’ the summer an’ how much we need. Some job! Rather be punchin’ dogies any day. Say, what you boys been doin’ with yoreselves? Hear any more about that gang from Hawley? Nick Looker told me about the note you got.”
Roy flung one leg over the table Bug Eye was writing on, and glanced idly at the piece of paper scribbed over with figures.
“The jail in Hawley was cleaned out,” he said slowly. “You knew about that?”
“No! You don’t say!” Surprise was written on Bug Eye’s face. “You mean to tell me them rustlers are loose again, after all the trouble we had to round ’em up? Great snakes! How’d that happen, an’ when?”
“The other day,” Teddy answered, watching his brother closely. Roy seemed intent on the paper spread on the table before him. “The sheriff and his deputies were chasing some would-be gunmen out of town, and when they came back the prisoners were gone. Probably away on a week-end visit.”
“Now, what do you know about that?” Bug Eye shook his head. “Froud, too? He gone?”
“Not quite,” Teddy replied, and told of Froud’s removal to another jail before the delivery. “So he’s still sittin’ out of the sun!”
“Say, Bug Eye!” Roy exclaimed suddenly, “you got that wrong.” He pointed to the paper. “That should be a capital R. If Mr. Ball is going to see this paper, you might as well have it right. See? Make that a capital.”