“Denver!” Jake Trummer broke in. “That’s—But go ahead, son. I’ll have my say later,” he added, with a glance at Mr. Manley.
“This Denver had a plan to rustle our cattle that had strayed over here, an’ he aimed to let you think Mr. Trummer did as he had threatened,” Teddy went on swiftly. “They’d found out, somehow, about the whole business; maybe from The Pup, though he didn’t appear to be with them. They were going to drive the cows off at night, and, by golly, that’s what they did!”
For a moment there was silence. Mr. Manley looked at Jake Trummer, his face a deep red. Then he threw back his head and thrust out his hand.
“Jake,” he said falteringly, “I ain’t sayin’ nothin’ now. I’ve done all my talkin’—a sight too much, I reckon. I’ll stay dumb for the rest of my life. But if you can forgive an old fool—”
With a grin, Jake Trummer clasped the hand offered him, and gripped hard.
“We all make mistakes,” he said softly. “I made the first one. All the forgivin’ to be done ain’t on my side. I come to you like a bag o’ wind an’ shot my mouth off when I shouldn’t. Some hand of yourn told one of my men that the orders were to let the cattle stray as far as they wanted, on my range if possible, because the grazin’ was good an’ they needed fattenin’. I was a fool to believe it.”
“The Pup!” Teddy and Roy exclaimed in the same breath.
“Was he tall, Mr. Trummer?” Teddy asked. “Dark?”
“Never saw him,” Mr. Trummer answered, releasing Mr. Manley’s hand. “He told one of my men. Well, Bardwell, we’ll forget it. We were both wrong, I, mebby, more than you. Now let’s get this thing straight. First I want to ask yore boy: Did that man you said they called Denver have a high-pitched, cracked voice?”
“I’ll tell a maverick he did!” Roy replied excitedly. “High as a girl’s, almost. Why?”