"Weston," he shouted, "you did this!"
"Veston!" exclaimed Uncle Jake. "Dot ist Miller. He has been mit me all der spring."
"I told him," muttered Weston, extending his hand to Ross, but turning away shamefacedly, "that you two boys had taken my place with my sick pard, while I was to stay by him."
Ross pumped the big hand up and down.
"Father," he cried excitedly, "he has saved our claims."
Weston tried to liberate his hand. He stole a glance at Sandy and Waymart, who had stopped just beyond the dump.
"Doc here"–he spoke to the group who surrounded him–"saved me first. I had that little business to pay for, but"–his tone sank to a mutter–"I thought I could pay it and git away to Missoury before Sandy found out what I was up to here––"
He was interrupted by Sandy’s voice from the trail, and the voice was harsh and vengeful. "Better come over to our shack, Lon. I want a little talk with ye about old man Quinn. He’s wantin’ t’ see ye powerful bad."
At the name the sheep-herder, who had been standing stupidly staring at Weston, woke up.
"Old man Quinn," he began. "A feller in Cody told me––" but no one was paying any attention to him.