"You eliminated an earful that time," the assistant foreman stated. "But I reckon it was just a little break, inside th' tunnel, an' it filled itself up natural like. You won't have any more trouble."
"I hope not," spoke the boy rancher. "Are you going on back to Diamond X, Babe?"
"Not until I find that bunch of strays from Square M. They're too valuable t' let slip."
"Especially to let Hank Fisher, or Del Pinzo, slip them away," exclaimed Bud as he and his chums left the store where they had been telephoning.
"Not so loud! Not so loud!" cautioned Babe.
"Why not?" Bud wanted to know, when they were outside.
"'Cause one of Hank's men was in there! He'll be sure t' tell what you said, Bud."
"Let him! I'm not afraid of Hank, or his tool Del Pinzo, and I'd just as soon either one would know what I think of 'em!"
"Don't be too brash; don't be too brash!" counseled Babe. "But they sure are both bad actors—Del an' Hank!"
There was nothing more that needed to, or could, be done at the Pocut River end of the flume, part natural, part artificial, which supplied Bud's new ranch with such a vital necessity as water. The stream had been dammed just above the intake pipe—not completely dammed, but enough to provide the necessary head of water.