“A-huh! What made the old fellow faint like that? He must be getting old.”
“Loss of blood made him faint. So it would you. He will shortly be able to tell us how he got the wound.”
“I’ll talk now. I’m so full of it I’ve got to talk. I’m an old idiot! No mistake ’bout that,” rumbled Sam. “I must talk, fer somethin’ has got to be did. They’ve got Jim, an’ I reckons they’ve got the fat boy, too.”
“Take it easy like,” urged the rancher. “No hurry at all. Does he want something to eat?”
“We are preparing something. Pete has killed a chicken and Nora is making broth for him,” replied Miss Briggs.
“Huh! Reckon you folks think you own this ranch, eh?” demanded the owner, his eyes twinkling.
“We might were we to sue for the damage we have sustained here,” retorted Emma snappily.
“Oh, ho! I reckon you’re right,” agreed Bindloss. “What’s on your mind, Conifer?”
“I found the trail!”
“You did?” cried Tom Gray.