e
third time that day completely exhausted his vocabulary, he sat down and
began to eat his dinner with a keen appetite.

"I don't suppose you know where your horse is at, by this tine," Weary
observed, as casually as possible, breaking a somewhat constrained
silence.

"I don't--and I don't give a darn," Andy snapped back. He ate a few
mouthfuls, and added less savagely: "He wasn't in sight, as I came
along. I didn't follow the trail; I struck straight across and came down
the coulee. He may be at the gate, and he may be down toward Rogers'."

Pink reached for a toothpick, eyeing Andy side-long; dimpled his cheeks
disarmingly, and cleared his throat. "Please don't kill me off when you
get that pie swallowed," he began pacifically. "Strange as it may seem,
I believe you, Andy. What I want to know is this: Who owns them Dots?
And what are they chasing all over the Flying U range for? It looks
plumb malicious, to me. Did you find out anything about 'en, Andy, while
you--er--while they--" His eyes twinkled and betrayed him for an arrant
pretender. (Pink was not afraid of anything on earth--least of all Andy
Green.)

"I will kill yuh by inches, if I hear any remarks out of yuh that
ain't respectful," Andy promised, thawing to his normal tone, which was
pleasant to the ear. "I didn't find out much about 'em. The fellow I
licked told me that Whittaker and Oleson owned the sheep. He didn't
say--"

"Well--by--golly!" Shin thrust his head forward belligerently.
"Whittaker! Well, what d'yuh think uh that!" He glared from one face
to the other, his gaze at last resting upon Weary. "Say, do yuh reckon
it's--Dunk?"

Weary paid no heed to Slim. He leaned forward, his face turned to Andy
with that concentration of attention which means so much more than mere
exclamation. "You're sure he said Whittaker?" he asked.

His tone and his attitude arrested Andy's cup midway to his mouth.
"Sure--Whittaker and Oleson. I never heard of the outfit--who's this
Whittaker person?"

Weary settled back in his place and smiled, but his eyes had quite lost
their habitually sunny expression.

"Up until four years ago," he explained evenly, "he was the Old Man's
partner. We caught him in some mighty dirty work, and--well, he sold
out to the Old Man. The old party with the hoofs and tail can't be
everywhere at once, the way I've got it sized up, so he turns some of
his business over to other folks. Dunk Whittaker's his top hand."

"Why, by gol