“Not any, Dad,” Roy responded, and tried to echo his father’s laugh, but there was a queer lump in his throat that he could not account for. Never before had his father talked like this. And when Mr. Manley saw his son’s eyes, he understood. With a yell he grabbed Roy about the waist and affected to throw him to the ground.
“Could I do it?” he grinned, desisting. “You bet I could! Snakes, Roy, you’re too blame serious! What chance have you got to see me take a back seat yet awhile and watch the grasshoppers whizzing by? In the words of the immortal poet, not any! Where in thunder is Teddy? Oh, here he comes!”
With the arrival of Nick and Teddy, Roy’s mind turned from its rather sombre trend to the business of ranching. Roy, but one year older than Teddy, had a more serious disposition, frequently considering events more important than they really were. This nature he inherited from his mother, who, before her marriage to Bardwell Manley, had been a school teacher in Denver. From her Roy got his taste for the really worthwhile things in life—poetry, literature, pictures. But the fact that these tendencies showed early development occasioned Teddy, who as yet was quite Roy’s opposite, much amusement.
As Nick Looker approached, Mr. Manley’s face took on a frown.
“Hear the news, Nick?” he asked shortly.
“Teddy told me,” Nick returned. An anxious light came into his eyes. “Was Jake Trummer real sore, boss?”
“He sure was,” Mr. Manley replied tersely. “Where’s Gus?”
“Town. Nat Raymond an’ Jim Casey are ridin’ from to-day on, accordin’ to Teddy. Gus went in to get some mail—says he’s expectin’ a letter from some Southern belle he’s got down near the border. Kind of uneasy about her, I’m thinkin’. Want him, too, boss?”
“Yes, I want him, too. But there’s a few things I want to say to you first. Nick, Jake Trummer had a right to be as sore as he liked. It’s no joke for another man’s cattle to eat up all your best grazin’ grass, especially when you ain’t got too much of it. Jake threatened to drive our dogies in the river if we didn’t get ’em out of there pronto, an’ of course I couldn’t let him get away with that, so I came back at him. But I knew he was right. Well—speak up. Got an explanation?”
“Who, me?” Nick’s face expressed hurt surprise. “What have I done, boss?”