"Not when I tell you the water has stopped running," said Bud.
"So you did! Hum, that's mighty queer like!" mused the assistant foreman, who had, early in the spring, been transferred to Mr. Merkel's Square M ranch from Diamond X. "But some of us rather thought there'd be trouble when your paw dammed up the river to shunt some of it through the old water course over to Buffalo Wallow. Hank Fisher claims his water supply has been lessened by what your paw did, Bud."
"That's all bosh!" exclaimed Bud. "There's as much water for Hank Fisher as he ever had at Double Z. Besides, this isn't his way of doing business. He's as mean as they make 'em, but he'll come out in the open and tell you what he thinks of you."
"Yes, Hank is that way—sometimes," agreed Babe cautiously. "At th' same time I wouldn't put it past him. Better tell your paw about this, Bud. You got grit—all three of you!" and he included the other boys in his glance. "But you can't fight Hank Fisher, Del Pinzo and that onery gang of Greasers and Mexicans!"
"There!" cried Nort, clapping his hand down on his outstretched leg. "That's who that man was—Del Pinzo!"
"What man?" asked Babe.
"The one Bud shot."
"What's that?" cried Babe, half starting to his feet. "Did you shoot somebody?"
"Well, I may have creased him," admitted the boy, using a word to denote a grazing bullet wound, hardly more than a scratch.
"Whew-ee-ee!" whistled Babe again. "This sounds like old times! Let's have the hull yarn, Buddy!" he appealed.