“Well, Alkali,” Lefty Forbes drawled, “in a few days now me and you can feast our eyes on the champeen bulldogger of these here parts.”
“Meanin’ who?” Alkali asked.
“Why, meanin’ old Blakeman hisself. To hear him tell it a man would think nobody even heard of bulldoggin’ till he came along.”
“I wouldn’t lay no money on him,” Alkali said. “The guy is a big loud-speaker.”
“And that ain’t all he is nuther,” Lefty added. “He’s a washout when it comes to runnin’ a ranch. Look at the jam he’s got this place into.”
“Yeah, and Miss Connie walked right into it. What a homecomin’!”
“I know. Alkali. And I feel rotten about the whole deal. Miss Connie is one swell kid. If it weren’t for her I’d quit today.”
At that moment the girl saw Forest Blakeman approaching from around the house. She wished to warn Lefty and Alkali. If the foreman heard them there might be trouble.
Picking up a large clod of earth she tossed it against the bunk-house door.
“Hey, what’s that?” Lefty shouted.