"Ma'am, some things are so raw that they rile an honest man; I admits I'm riled considerable, which, of course, don't prove me to be honest. Even Two-Spot says he don't know how many cows I've rustled, nor how many trains I've stuck up. Th' number might surprise him." "Somehow I feel that I should thank you for the favors you have done us," she replied; "but my opinion of western men, as _I_ have found them, urges me to seek the motive first." He flushed, and looked at her steadily. "Mebby that's th' motive yo're askin' about," he said gravely, and slowly continued: "You've asked me a lot of questions; can I deal a few?" "It depends on what they are." "They're personal--plumb personal. I'm wantin' to know if Big Tom holds yore dad's note for three thousand dollars." He waited a moment and, receiving no reply, asked two in one. "How many cows was on th' SV when you bought it, an' how many are on it now? Th' tally sheets ought to give that purty close--close enough, anyhow." "Mr. Nelson, the first seems to be public knowledge. Mr. Huff holds my father's note for that amount. The number of cows, then or now, I do not know." "Is th' note endorsed, an 'what security was given?" "I endorsed it. The ranch is in my name." "Uh-huh," commented Johnny. "Do you know where th' tally sheets are?" "If you mean the books, they are on a shelf in the house." "Ma'am," he said, earnestly, "I wonder if you would mind copyin' off what there is about th' number of cows on th' ranch after th' last trail herd left, th' year before you took possession? An' how many cows there was this spring, or th' number of calves branded then?" "Why do you want this?" she demanded. "Why should I go to that trouble, or tell you such things?" "I don't know," he answered, "less'n you want to. You see, I'm curious about things, _too_. It's a failin' most humans have, a bad failin'. An', before I forget it, I'm goin' to ask you another: Judgin' from them posts down there along th' river, that's a quicksand. Why ain't there more wire strung to keep th' cows out of it?" "Because it is torn off as fast as it is put up. We have given up the effort; it is useless. _If you only knew_--" she checked herself, but the tears of helpless anger in her eyes could not be kept from forming. "That's just it, Ma'am--if I only knowed," he replied, nodding. "I know a lot about that, but not about th' number of cows you have lost. I'm what you might call morbid, an' like to grieve about calamities. Would you mind gettin' them figgers for me? I'll be here about ten o'clock tomorrow for 'em, if you will." "Yes; but _why_ do you want them?" she demanded. "I'm aimin' to put th' fear of God where it ain't been knowed for a long time, Ma'am," he answered, "an' be rewarded by th' company." "What company?"