“Where will this meet be held?” asked Mr. Beaumont.
“At Border City.”
“At Border City?” echoed Cranny.
“Yes; this New York man, Major Warfield Carroll, I think Tim called him, got busy with the committee in charge. He offered to stand a part of the expense if they’d hold it at Border City.”
“Why?” asked Cranny.
“Well, Major Carroll’s aviator friends had interested him in the place, first of all. Then he discovered that Border City had possibilities—and got the town’s people all worked up over it; and some of the ranchers, too. Anyway, the scheme has had the biggest kind of a boost.”
“Well, that’s going some!” cried Cranny.
“And Tim Lovell says we’d never know the place,” broke in Sam Randall. “There’s a big flour mill and grain elevator there now; and——”
“A couple more hotels,” interrupted Dick Travers, in his turn.
“So the ‘Black Bear’ and ‘Cattlemen’s Retreat’ have rivals, eh?” grinned Cranny. “Remember how each one tried to get ahead of the other? I’ll bet, dad, I never told you about——”