Part 3 (1/2)

”What do you mean?”

”I mean they're traveling along together just as if they belonged to the same outfit.”

”Huh! I can't help it, can I, if your cows tag along with our strays?”

demanded Len with a sneer.

”That's what I'm here for--to help prevent it,” Dave went on, and his voice was a trifle sharp. ”The Bar U ranch can't afford to lose any strays these days,” he resumed. ”The Carson outfit needs all it can get, and, as representative of the Carson interests I'll just cut out those strays of ours, Len, and head them the other way.”

”Huh! What right have you got to do it?”

”What right? Why my father sent me to gather up our strays. I saw some of them up here yesterday.”

”Your father?” The sneer in Len's voice was unmistakable.

”Yes, of course,” said Dave, wondering what was the matter with Len. ”My father, Randolph Carson.”

”He isn't your father!” burst out Len in angry tones. ”And you aren't his son! You're a nameless picked-up n.o.body, that's what you are! A n.o.body!

You haven't even a name!”

And with this taunt on his lips Len spurred his horse away from Dave's.

CHAPTER III

A CONFESSION

Something seemed to strike Dave Carson a blow in the face. It was as though he had suddenly plunged into cold water, and, for the moment, he could not get his breath. The sneering words of Len Molick rang in his ears:

”You're a nameless, picked-up n.o.body!”

Having uttered those cruel words, Len was riding on, driving before him some of his father's stray cattle, as well as some belonging to the Bar U ranch. The last act angered Dave, and anger, at that moment, was just what was needed to arouse him from the lethargy in which he found himself. It also served, in a measure, to clear away some of the unpleasant feeling caused by the taunt.

”Hold on there a minute, Len Molick!” called Dave, sharply.

Len never turned his head, and gave no sign of hearing.

A dull red spot glowed in each of Dave's tanned cheeks. With a quick intaking of his breath he lightly touched the spurs to his horse--lightly, for that was all the intelligent beast needed. Dave pa.s.sed his taunting enemy on the rush, and planting himself directly in front of him on the trail, drew rein so sharply that his steed reared. The cows, scattered by the sudden rush, ambled awkwardly on a little distance, and then stopped to graze.

”What do you mean by getting in my way?” growled Len.

”I mean to have you stop and answer a few questions,” was the calm retort.

”If it's about these cattle I tell you I'm not trying to drive off any of yours,” said Len, in whining tones. He knew the severe penalty attached to this in a cow country, and Dave was sufficiently formidable, as he sat easily on his horse facing the bully, to make Len a little more respectful.

”I'm not going to ask you about these cattle--at least not right away,”

Dave went on. ”This is about another matter. You said something just now that needs explaining.”

”I say a good many things,” Len admitted, and again there sounded in his voice a sneer. ”I don't have to explain to you everything I say; do I?”