“Not often,” Mr. Manley assured her. “Seein’ as how this is the first one the boys have ever been in, I reckon they’ll be plenty careful. You’ve never even seen one, have you, Mother? We’ll have to go, sure. When that there band gets playin’ an’ a ridin’ fool is on top of a pony that’s headin’ for the sky, an’ all the people are yellin’ an’ shoutin’--by jinks, it makes you tingle all over! I been waitin’ for the day my boys would be big enough to get in the rodeo. An’ I want to see one prize, even if it’s only a booby prize.” “We’ll steer clear of that one,” Roy declared. “I’m going to get Nick and Pop to give me some pointers. Come on, Teddy, we’ll go over now and talk to them!” “You’re excused,” Mr. Manley chuckled. “Golly, Barbara, how it does bring back the days I used to ride in those events! The first one I went in kept me awake the whole night before, thinkin’ of it! Now I got two grown sons to keep up the good work. Guess we haven’t had such a bad time of it after all, hey, girlie?” “You talk like a grandfather!” his wife laughed. “Run along, boys--your father is getting sentimental! But do be careful of those--those wild cows, won’t you?” The boys found Nick Looker, Pop Burns and Gus Tripp playing mumblety-peg on the ground in front of the bunkhouse. They stood for a moment watching the game, until Nick gave up in disgust when he took a small slice out of his hand. Declaring that the light was too uncertain for a master to show his stuff, he arose. “I see yore dad talkin’ to another cattle dealer,” he proclaimed. “Anything stirrin’?” On the X Bar X the hands were treated almost as partners in the business, so Nick’s question was perfectly proper. “Made a deal,” Roy answered. “Six hundred head. Dad had to post a forfeit.” “Don’t like this forfeit business,” Pop Burns declared. Pop, as the oldest man on the ranch--and the baldest--took upon himself the privileges of seniority. Needless to say his place in the sun was hotly contested by the other punchers. “Too easy to lose money that way,” he continued. “I remember one time--” “Carry me back to old Virginy!” Gus caroled. “Where the--” “Funny, ain’t you?” Pop sniffed. “But let me tell you one thing! I was bustin’ broncos when you was bustin’ baby crackers. An’ that’s no song, either!” CHAPTER VIII SOMETHING QUEER “Take it easy, boys,” Teddy chuckled. “Pop, go on with your story. You were saying--” “Talk to these bow-legged skillet-curlers? Not me! I wouldn’t waste breath on ’em. Maybe when round-up time comes they won’t be quite so chipper. I’ve known buckets to welch before this.” “Here’s one that won’t,” Nick declared. “Go ahead, rave on, old man! Now, Teddy, I think we were talkin’ business when so rudely interrupted. About those cattle--”