CHAPTER XIV
Failure
A moment, a breathless, hushed moment, Teddy and Roy stood beneath trees which still dripped from the recent rain, the drops falling in a patter whenever the light breeze stirred the branches. Through the darkness came those low, tense tones. As the boys listened, words separated themselves from the mumble of sound.
“... just heard about it,” some one was saying. The speaker had a high, nervous voice which he apparently kept softened by an effort. “Stay out from that shore, Bunk! Wanta have those fools on our necks?”
“Aw, yo’re too touchy, Denver,” another whined, and the boys heard the swirl of a paddle being held in the water, evidently to swing the boat around. The craft was probably drifting with the current now, for the listeners could not detect the dip of blades forcing it onward. “They ain’t near here,” the speaker went on. “Go ahead. Let’s have the dope.”
Roy leaned closer to Teddy and spoke with his mouth close to his brother’s ear.
“We’ll follow,” Roy whispered, and Teddy nodded to show that he understood. Carefully the two boys picked their way along the bank, hoping to hear more before the canoe drifted out of range.
“How many times do I have to repeat this?” the one called Denver snarled. “Now listen, you guys. Manley, up on the X Bar X, let a herd of his cattle wander off his ground on to the grazin’ field of Jake Trummer, of Whirlpool River Ranch.”
Teddy started, and nudged Roy. His brother did not respond. He was listening intently.
“Now I happen to know—never mind how—that old man Trummer went to Manley an’ told him if the dogies weren’t off there soon he’d drive ’em into the river. That was two or three days ago. Manley started out to round ’em up. But he went overland, so he’ll be some time gettin’ there. That’s where we come in.”
“And so do we!” Teddy whispered. “Roy, get this!”