"Didn't expect to see me here, I reckon," the cattleman went on. "Well, I hopped a train soon as I got yore first wire. Spill yore story, young man."
Dave told his tale, while the ranchman listened in grim silence. When Sanders had finished, the owner of the stock brought a heavy hand down on his shoulder approvingly.
"You can ship cattle for me long as you've a mind to, boy. You fought for that stock like as if it had been yore own. You'll do to take along."
Dave flushed with boyish pleasure. He had not known whether the cattleman would approve what he had done, and after the long strain of the trip this endorsement of his actions was more to him than food or drink.
"They say I'm kinda stubborn. I didn't aim to lie down and let those guys run one over me," he said.
"Yore stubbornness is money in my pocket. Do you want to go back and ride for the Fifty-Four Quarter Circle?"
"Maybe, after a while, Mr. West. I got business in Denver for a few days."
The cattleman smiled. "Most of my boys have when they hit town, I notice."
"Mine ain't that kind. I reckon it's some more stubbornness," explained
Dave.
"All right. When you've finished that business I can use you."