"You might know it," the Kid said disgustedly. "The coot took mine—out of all that bunch to pick from, he had to rustle my new bronc! By golly, if ever I set eyes on you again, you old——"
"Take it easy!" laughed Bud. "Could be a lot worse. He might have turned the rest of 'em loose, too."
"No use beefin' about it," said Billee Dobb. "All over now. He's gone—an' so's the Kid's bronc. Talk about it in the morning. Me, I'm tired!"
The night passed uneventfully. At sun-up the Kid appeared at the door of Bud's room and grinned in at him.
"Ready for work?" he cried.
"You mean trailin' your horse, Kid?" Bud asked mischievously.
The grin left Yellin' Kid's face and his eyes flashed.
"No," he said shortly. "I'll leave that for later. When I got some time on my hands that I want to use up in enjoyment. Then I'll go after your friend Delton."
"He's no friend of mine," retorted Bud. "But let's not chop about it until after breakfast, anyway. Think that Mexican cook is on the job?"
"Heard him movin' around a while ago, Bud. Let's go down an' see. Billee is downstairs, and I guess Nort an' Dick are too."