"No. Among them pine stumps it'll take 'em a week to round up their stock."
And now all hands turned to Herr Muller and eagerly demanded his story. It was soon told. He had arrived in the valley a short time before they had, and, charmed by its picturesque wildness, had begun enthusiastically taking pictures. In doing so, he had dismounted, and wandered some distance from his horse. When he turned his attention to it again, it had disappeared. However, although at first he thought he had lost the animal he soon found it grazing off among a clump of willows by the creek. He had mounted it and was riding off when suddenly the cowpunchers appeared, and as soon as their eyes fell on the horse accused the German of stealing it.
"I dell dem dot dey is mistakes making, but der use voss iss?" he went on. "Dey say dot dey pinch me anyhow."
"Lynch you, you mean, don't you?" inquired Nat.
"Vell dey pinch me too, dond dey?" asked Herr Muller indignantly. "Howefer, I egsplain by dem dot dey make misdage and den a leedle bull boy——"
"Cowboy," corrected Cal with a grin.
"Ach, how I can tell idt you my story if you are interrupt all der time," protested the German. "Well as I voss saying, der bull-boy tells me, 'loafer vot you iss you dake idt my bony vile I voss go hunting John rabbits. Yust for dot vee hang you py der neck.'"
"What did you say?" asked Nat, who began to think that the absent-minded German might actually have taken a wrong horse by accident.
"I say, 'Dot is my horse. I know him lige I know it mein brudder.' But dey say dot I iss horse bustler——"
"Rustler," muttered Cal.