Connie was so absorbed with her thoughts that she bumped squarely into a heavy-set man who was coming from the opposite direction. It was Pop Bradshaw.
“Why, hello, Pop!” said Connie.
“’Mornin’,” responded the old rancher uneasily.
He turned and entered the Norton Cafe. Connie glanced curiously through the plate glass window. Forest Blakeman was nowhere in sight so she knew that he must have stepped into one of the ice cream booths. And now Pop Bradshaw disappeared from sight in a similar manner.
“It looks to me as if they are meeting each other by appointment,” Connie mused. “What business can they be having together?”
Her suspicions aroused, Connie quietly entered the cafe, seating herself in a booth adjoining the one occupied by the two men. She knew they were there for she could hear their voices.
“I’d not advise you to double cross me, Pop!” Blakeman said distinctly although in a low tone. “This is a fine time to get cold feet!”
“Don’t get excited now,” returned Pop in a quavery voice. “I’ll do as I said. I’m only sayin’ it goes agin’ my grain to play it on the boys thet way with them all thinkin’ I’ve entered Catapult in the rodeo same as always.”
By this time Connie was all attention. She leaned closer to the wall so that she would not miss a single word.
“Let’s get this straight,” said the cool voice of the foreman. “I paid you five hundred dollars to keep that old horned rhinoceros of yours out of the show. You agreed and took the money and now you’re cryin’ around about me playin’ it dirty on the boys. You knew it was dirty before you took the money, didn’t you?”