ndrick and the cattle interests over his sheep," the reader answered
casually.

"Yep. Between Fendrick and Cullison, anyhow." Stone had reclaimed and
pocketed his time table.

Incidentally Flandrau's doubt had been converted into a lively suspicion.
Presently he took a gun, and strolled off to shoot birds. What he really
wanted was to be alone so that he could think the matter over. Coming home
in the dusk, he saw Stone and young Cullison with their heads together
down by the corral. Curious to see how long this earnest talk would last,
Curly sat down on a rock, and watched them, himself unobserved. They
appeared to be rehearsing some kind of a scene, of which Soapy was stage
director.

The man on the rock smiled grimly. "They're having a quarrel, looks
like.... Now the kid's telling Soapy to go to Guinea, and Soapy's pawing
around mad as a bull moose. It's all a play. They don't mean it. But why?
I reckon this dress rehearsal ain't for the calves in the corral."

Curly's mind was so full of guesses that his poker was not up to par that
night. About daybreak he began to see his way into the maze. His first
gleam of light was when a row started between Soapy and Cullison. Before
anyone could say a word to stop them they were going through with that
identical corral quarrel.

Flandrau knew now they had been preparing it for his benefit. Cranston
chipped in against Sam, and to keep up appearances Curly backed the boy.
The quarrel grew furious. At last Sam drove his fist down on the table and
said he was through with the outfit and was going back to Saguache.

"_Yo tambien_," agreed Curly. "Not that I've got anything against the
horse ranch. That ain't it. But I'm sure pining for to bust the bank at
Bronson's.

'Round and round the little ball goes,
Where it will land nobody knows.'

I've got forty plunks burning my jeans. I've got to separate myself from
it or make my roll a thousand."

The end of it was that both Sam and Curly went down to the corral and
saddled their ponies. To the last the conspirators played up to their
parts.

"Damned good riddance," Stone called after them as they rode away.

"When I find out I'm doing business with four-flushers, I quit them cold,"
Sam called back angrily.

Curly was amused. He wanted to tell his friend that they had pulled off
their little play very well. But he did not.

Still according to program, Sam sulked for the first few mile