“He discharged them?” Connie gasped. “Why I thought they left of their own accord——”
“Well, they didn’t. They didn’t see eye to eye with Blakeman so he told ’em to go. ’Course you know how the cattle market’s been the last few years. An’ Blakeman seems to have a talent for sellin’ at the bottom. Truth is, things are in a purty bad way.”
“I mean to have a talk with Blakeman tomorrow,” Connie declared. “If he doesn’t wish to handle the ranch as I say, I’ll find a new foreman.”
“You can’t do that, Connie.”
“Why can’t I? Isn’t this my ranch?”
“It was your ranch,” said the cowboy quietly, “but I reckon now that the First National Bank has a strangle hold on it. They have a couple of notes——”
“Yes, Blakeman wrote me about that,” Connie interrupted, “but I understood the debt was only a small one.”
“It’s enough so the bank can take over any time. For the past year Blakeman has paid the interest out of his own pocket—or so he claims. And you’re owin’ him more than a year’s back salary. So you see, unless you’re supplied with ready cash, you can’t tell him to go.”
“I begin to understand,” murmured Connie.
“Blakeman is a slick sort of fellow, Connie. You want to think your way and move slow.”