“Joe Mostano, eh? He’s that ’breed back on Lick Creek. Bought out that old Hopper ranch, didn’t he? Brands with a big H. Covers half the animal.”
“I don’t know,” replied Barney. “Art Fields runs the commissary and takes care of the buying. You got some beef to sell, Brick?”
Brick shook his head and got to his feet.
“I wonder if I could have a little talk with Fields?”
“Sure thing. He’s in that big building on the other side of the cook-shack. You know him?”
“Nope, but I can find him.”
“I’ll go with you.”
Barney got his hat and they walked to the commissary building. Hank Stagg and Leach were talking to several men near the bunk-house. Leach said something to the men, which caused them to laugh.
Art Fields was a little, fat man, with an almost totally bald head and a serious face. He shook hands with Brick and waited for him to state his business.
“Yes, we buy from Mostano,” he said, in answer to Brick’s question. “He has been supplying us with beef for several months. It is cheaper than having it freighted in. Mostano packs it in on his horses. His ranch is only about six miles from here, I think.”