She turned back the counterpane and Racey laid her snoring parent on the blanket. Expertly he pulled off the man's boots and stood them side by side against the wall. "Had to take 'em off now, or his feet would swell so after you'd never get 'em off," he said in justification of his conduct. She held the door open for him to leave the room. She did not look at him. Nor did she speak. "I'm going now," he said, standing in the middle of the kitchen. "But I wish you wouldn't shut that door just yet." "I--Oh, can't you see you're not wanted here?" Her voice was shaking. The door was open but a crack. He could not see her. "I know," he said, gently. "But you don't understand how serious this business is. I had good reason for believing that somebody is trying to steal yore ranch. From several things yore dad said I'm shorer than ever. If I could only talk to you a li'l while." At this she came forth. Her eyes were downcast. Her cheeks were red with shamed blood. She leaned against the table. One closed fist rested on the top of the table. The knuckles showed white. She was trembling a little. "Where and what is McFluke's?" he asked. "Oh, that's where he got it!" she exclaimed, bitterly. "I guess. If you wouldn't mind telling me where McFluke's is, ma'am--" "It's a little saloon and store on the Marysville road at the Lazy River ford." "It's new since my time then." "It's been in operation maybe a year and a half. What makes you think someone is trying to steal our ranch?" "Lots o' things," he told her, briskly. "But they ain't gonna do it if I can help it. Don't you fret. It will all come out right. Shore it will. Can't help it." "But tell me how--what you know," she demanded. "I haven't time now, unless you're coming with me to see Chuck." "I can't--now." "Then you ask Chuck later. I'll tell him all about it. You ask him. So long." Racey hurried out and caught up his own horse. He swung into the saddle and spurred away down stream. CHAPTER V McFLUKE'S "They been after him to sell a long time," said Chuck Morgan, rolling a cigarette as he and Racey Dawson jogged along toward McFluke's at the ford of the Lazy. "Who?" asked Racey. "I dunno. Can't find out. Luke Tweezy is the agent and he won't give the party's name." "Has Old Salt tried to buy him out?" "Not as I know of. Why should he? He knows he won't sell to anybody." "Have they been after you, too?" "Not yet. Dad Dale's the lad they want special. My ranch would be a good thing, but it ain't noways necessary like Dale's is to anybody startin' a big brand. Lookit the way Dale's lays right across the valley between them two ridges like a cork in a bottle. A mile wide here, twenty mile away between Funeral Slue and Cabin Hill she's a good thirty mile wide--one cracking big triangle of the best grass in the territory. All free range, but without Dale's section and his water rights to begin with what good is it?" "Not much," conceded Racey.