"Served him right!"
"That's what I think, too," grinned Sandy. "The like are not all dead yet either—worse luck! And this brings me back to the matter of my permit, Mr. Clark. We are two permits short, sir. The new herds that came from Kansas City are not counted into our old rating. Did you think of that? Having more sheep this year we must pay in more money. You didn't happen to remember, did you, to get permits for those extra flocks?"
"No, Sandy, I didn't; but of course Thornton has attended to it. See, here he comes. We will ask him. Thornton," he called, as the big fellow passed the door, "what are we going to do about permits for the new herds? They are not included in the tax we now pay."
"Don't you worry about more permits, Mr. Clark. I can save you a penny on that," declared Thornton with a knowing wink. "You pay the government enough as it is. Leave it to me, sir. I'll see that the herds get into the range all right, and that it costs you no more. When Sandy goes in he can talk with the ranger. All the rangers know him and they never will suspect him. In the meantime Owen can take the Kansas City herd and slip in further down the line. There is no danger of our being caught. Many a herder has done it and had no trouble."
"There will be no sliding sheep into the reserves without permits while I own Crescent Ranch, Thornton," said Mr. Clark sternly. "We will pay what we owe the government or we will keep fewer sheep."
"I was only trying to save you money, sir," Thornton hastened to explain.
"You took a very poor method to do it," was Mr. Clark's cold reply. "The money part of wool-growing is not your care. You are here to raise sheep in conformity to the laws of your country."
"A mighty poor set of laws they are," grumbled Thornton sullenly.
"You may not like them, but they are for your good nevertheless, and since you are an American it is up to you to obey them. I keep no man in my employ who is not—before everything else—a good citizen."
Thornton flushed, but made no reply.