n, too; but we want to get
a fair running start, and not fall over this hump. Listen here! We've
got to swear that it is not for the benefit of any other person, persons
or corporation, and so on; and farther along it says we must not act
in collusion with any person, persons or corporation, to give them the
benefit of the land. There's more of the same kind, too, but you see--"

"Well, who's acting in collusion? What's collusion mean anyhow?" Slim
demanded aggressively.

"It means what we're aiming to do--if anybody could prove it on us,"
explained the Native Son. "My oldest brother's a lawyer, and I caught
some of it from him. And my expert, legal advice is this: to get into a
row with the Old Man, maybe--anyway, quit him cold, so we get our time.
We must let that fact percolate the alleged brains of Dry Lake and
vicinity--and if we give any reason for taking claims right under the
nose of the Flying U, why, we're doing it to spite the Old Man. Sabe?
Otherwise we're going to have trouble--unless that colony scheme is just
a pipe dream of Andy's."

The Happy Family had learned to respect the opinions of the Native Son,
whose mixture of Irish blood with good Castilian may have had something
to do with his astuteness. Once, as you may have heard, the Native Son
even scored in a battle of wits with Andy Green, and scored heavily.
And he had helped Andy pull the Flying U out of an extremely ticklish
situation, by his keen wit saving the outfit much trouble and money.
Wherefore they heeded now his warning to the extent of unsmilingly
discussing the obstacle he had pointed out to them. One after another
they read the paragraph which they had before passed over too hastily,
and sensed the possibilities of its construction. Afterward they went
into serious consultation as to ways and means, calling Happy Jack back
so that he might understand thoroughly what must be done. For the Happy
Family was nothing if not thorough, and their partisanship that had been
growing insensibly stronger through the years was roused as it had not
been since Dunk Whittaker drove sheep in upon the Flying U.

The Old Man, having eaten a slice of roast pork the size of his two
hands, in defiance of his sister's professional prohibition of the
indulgence, was sitting on the sunny side of the porch trying to ignore
the first uneasy symptoms of indigestion. The Little Doctor had taken
his pipe away from him that morning, and had badgered him into taki