Bar-20, as they rode homeward after an
inspection of that ranch. "There'll be more dust hanging over the
drive trails leading from this section next year when spring drops
the barriers than ever before. You needn't fear for the market,
neither--prices will stand. The north an' central ranges ain't doing
what they ought to this year--it'll be up to you fellers down south,
here, to make that up; an' you can do it." This was not a guess, but the
result of thought and study based on the observations he had made on his
ride south, and from what he had learned from others along the way.
It paralleled Buck's own private opinion, especially in regard to
the southern range; and the vague suspicions in the foreman's mind
disappeared for good and all.

Needless to say Elkins was a welcome visitor at the ranch houses and was
regarded as a good fellow. At the Bar-20 he found only two men who
would not thaw to him, and he was possessed of too much tact to try
any persuasive measures. One was Hopalong, whose original cold reserve
seemed to be growing steadily, the Bar-20 puncher finding in Elkins
a personality that charged the atmosphere with hostility and quietly
rubbed him the wrong way. Whenever he was in the presence of the
newcomer he felt the tugging of an irritating and insistent antagonism
and he did not always fully conceal it. John Bartlett, Lucas, and one
or two of the more observing had noticed it and they began to prophesy
future trouble between the two. The other man who disliked Elkins was
Red Connors; but what was more natural? Red, being Hopalong's closest
companion, would be very apt to share his friend's antipathy. On the
other hand, as if to prove Hopalong's dislike to be unwarranted, Johnny
Nelson swung far to the other extreme and was frankly enthusiastic in
his liking for the cattle scout. And Johnny did not pour oil on the
waters when he laughingly twitted Hopalong for allowing "a licking
at cards to make him sore." This was the idea that Elkins was quietly
striving to have generally accepted.

The affair thus hung fire, Elkins chafing at the delay and cautiously
working for an opening, which at last presented itself, to be promptly
seized. By a sort of mutual, unspoken agreement, the men in Cowan's that
night passed up the cards and sat swapping stories. Cowan, swearing at a
smoking lamp, looked up with a grin and burned his fingers as a roar of
laughter marked the point of a droll reminiscence told by Bartl