"You know them nine big steers as strayed from here some time ago? I
tol' you about 'em two or three weeks ago? Well, I found 'em like I
said I would, all nine of 'em, an' on Ranch Number Ten."
"It's quite a way for cattle to stray," said the old man sharply.
Blenham shrugged carelessly.
"Oh, I dunno," he returned lightly. "I've knowed 'em to go fu'ther
than that. Well, I made a pass to haze 'em on back this way an' young
Packard blocks my play."
The old man's eye brightened.
"What did he say?" he asked eagerly.
"He said," said Blenham, picking at his hat-band, "as how if the stock
was yours which he didn't believe he'd hold 'em until you sent over
enough coin to pay for their feed. He said as how, if you couldn't be
decent you better anyhow leave him alone. He said hell with both of
us."
"He did?" cried old Packard. "He said that, Blenham?"
"He did," answered Blenham with a quick, curious, sidewise glance.
Packard's big hand was lifted and came down mightily upon his thigh as,
suddenly released, the old man's voice boomed out in a great peal of
laughter.
"Ho!" he cried, shouting out the words to be heard far out across the
open meadow. "Say to hell with me, does he? Holds my stock for
pasture money, does he? Defies me to do my worst, him a young,
penniless whippersnapper, me a millionaire an' a man-breaker! Why,
curse it, he's a man already, Blenham! He's a Packard to his backbone,
I tell you! By the Lord, I've a notion to jump into my car and go get
the boy!"
A troubled shadow came and went swiftly across Blenham's face, not to
be seen by the old man who was staring out of his window.
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