Melton's library and business
office combined.
His employer looked up from some accounts he was going over and motioned
the foreman to a seat.
"Well, Sandy," he said, as he noted the worried look in the latter's
eyes, "what seems to be the matter? Out with it and get it off your
chest."
"It's about them derned rustlers," said Sandy, with his usual directness
coming straight to the point. "I'm afraid they're gettin' away with a
good many of our beeves."
Mr. Melton's brows met in a puzzled frown.
"What makes you think so?" he asked.
"A heap of things," was the reply. "In the first place, the boys have
found a lot of motherless calves galloping around and bleating for their
mas. Of course, we always look for a few of those, but lately the
number's been beyond all reason. Then, too, there's been quite a bunch of
ornery fellers that the boys has caught sight of hangin' round where they
didn't seem to have no business to be. Of course, that doesn't prove
anything against them, and aside from givin' them a pretty sharp lookin'
over, we couldn't do nothin' just on suspicion.
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