“That sure is mighty hard luck,” remarked Jessup as they rode out of town. “I’m glad this outfit ain’t any nearer.”
“Somewhere off to the west of the Shoe-Bar, isn’t it?” asked Stratton.
“Yeah. ’Way the other side of the mountains. There’s a short cut through the hills that comes out around the north end of middle pasture, but there ain’t one steer in a thousand could find his way through. Well, let’s hear what you’re up to, old man. I’m plumb interested.”
Buck’s serious expression relaxed and he promptly launched into a detailed explanation of his scheme. When he had made everything clear Bud’s face lit up and he regarded his friend admiringly.
“By cripes, Buck!” he exclaimed delightedly. “That sure oughta work. When are yuh goin’ to spring it on ’em?”
“First good chance I get,” returned Buck. “The sooner the better, so they won’t have time to try any more dirty work.”
The opportunity was not long in coming. They reached the ranch just before dinner and when 131 the meal was over learned that the afternoon was to be devoted to repairing the telephone leading from the ranch-house to Las Vegas camp, which had been out of order for several weeks. As certain fence wires were utilized for line purposes, this meant considerable work, if Stratton could judge by the ruinous condition of most of those he had seen. He wondered not a little at the meaning of the move, but did not allow his curiosity to interfere with the project he had in mind.
They had left the ranch in a bunch, Kreeger and Siegrist alone remaining behind for some other purpose. They had not gone more than two miles when a remark of McCabe’s on mining claims gave Buck his cue.
“A fellow who goes into that game with a bunch takes a lot of chances,” he commented. “I knew a chap once who came mighty near being croaked, to say nothing of losing a valuable claim, by being too confiding with a gang he thought could be trusted.”
“How was that?” inquired Slim amiably, as Stratton paused.