"I can hire a heap of men for a thousand dollars," said he, rising. "Goodnight."
Plant rumbled something. The two went out, leaving the fat man chewing his cigar and scowling angrily after them.
Once clear of the premises Welton laughed loudly.
"Well, my son, that's your first shy at the government official, isn't it? They're not all as bad as that. At first I couldn't make out whether he was just fat and lazy. Now I know he's a grafter. He ought to get a nice neat 'For Sale' sign painted. Did you hear the nerve of him? Wanted a thousand dollars bribe to do his plain duty."
"Oh, that was what he was driving at!" cried Bob.
"Yes, Baby Blue-eyes, didn't you tumble to that? Well, I don't see a thousand in it whether he's for us or against us."
"Was that the reason he didn't send over all his men to the fire?" asked Bob.
"Partly. Principally because he wanted to help old Simeon Wright's men in with the cattle. Simeon probably has a ninety-nine year lease on his fat carcass—with the soul thrown in for a trading stamp. It don't take but one man to count cattle, but three extra cowboys comes mighty handy in the timber."
"Would Wright bribe him, do you suppose?"
Welton stopped short.