“Didn’t I tell you?� cried Teddy excitedly, turning to Roy. “Froud! He’s in that gang sure as fate! And so is Checkered Shirt! I can’t give you a reason for saying that, but I’ll bet it’s so, just the same.�
Mr. Manley looked over at his son.
“You mean that bad egg who was standin’ outside Rimor’s the day General an’ Flash an’ Star were rustled? The one I wanted to talk to later? The chap who vamoosed?�
“That’s the one, Dad! Yes sir, he and Froud are together on these shady deals, I’ll bet a gold mine!�
“Mebby,� Mr. Manley said slowly, “mebby.� He rested his foot against the lower rail of the corral fence. “But we can’t do anything just yet. Froud ain’t in town now, that’s sure. Wouldn’t do any good to ride after him. What we’ve got to do, is to get him when he doesn’t know we’re comin’. I don’t mind sayin’ I’ll have him for shootin’ Gus.�
Slow in speech, slow to declare what he intended to do, both Teddy and Roy recognized fixed determination in their father’s tone. Froud’s days of freedom were numbered. It might take time, but the boys knew that Mr. Manley would never rest until he had placed Froud behind bars—or put him permanently out of commission.
When the other punchers heard that Gus had been shot, they were loud in their declarations of vengeance upon Froud. Gus was well liked by all the boys on the X Bar X, and each puncher vowed:
“I’ll square it up for you, Gus!�
Pop, especially, was wild with anger at the rustler. He asserted that:
“Shootin’ a man is worse than stealin’ the X Bar X brand,� which, for Pop, was the criterion of mean and despicable actions.