“Jake Trummer,” he said shortly. “Seems to be getting a load off his chest. Wonder what the row is about.”
“Plenty, from the noise,” Roy answered. “He’s sure laying it into dad. Let’s investigate.”
As the boys were intimately concerned with the running of the X Bar X, their decision to learn the cause of the argument was not an intrusion. They knew their father wished them to know anything that concerned the ranch. So, chirping gently to their ponies, they rode around the bunk-house and came in sight of the speaker.
Jake Trummer had his back to them as they trotted up.
“You heard what I said, Bard Manley,” he was thundering. “I ain’t got no time for foolin’ around. Either you take yore cattle off my ranges, or, by gosh, I’ll drive ’em off, an’ none too gentle, either! You hear me!”
“Can’t help it, not bein’ deaf,” Mr. Manley returned. “You make a noise like a steam calliope, Jake, only not so pleasant. But you use the same kind of power—hot air. Now listen. Just as fast as I can, I’ll—hello boys!” their father suddenly broke off. “You’re just in time. Jake, here, was tellin’ me a nice little story about a bad wolf; wasn’t it, Jake?”
“We heard some of it,” Roy said, with a grin, and dismounted. “What’s the matter, Mr. Trummer?”
“Matter enough! And if you think it’s a nice story, you’ll learn different, Bard Manley! You get yore cattle off my ranges, an’ quick! You know the grass down by Whirlpool River is the best grazin’ in the state, an’ you know I only got a certain amount of it. Hardly enough for my own stock. Then you let yore cows go roamin’ all around creation an’—”
“Do you mean that our cattle are using your grass?” Teddy asked, sliding from his horse. “If that’s so, we’ll try to get them off as quickly as possible.” He turned to his father. “I’m sorry about that, Dad. I had Nick an’ Gus riding this week. They didn’t do their job very well, I guess. Wait a minute, Mr. Trummer, and we’ll get the straight of this. Hey, Nick!” The boy raised his voice in a shout. “Nick around? Come over here—pronto!”
“Take it easy,” Mr. Manley said suddenly. “Never mind it, Nick!” he called. And as a young puncher appeared from around the bunk-house the “boss” waved a hand. “Trot back. If we want you we’ll yell again.”