“What we came over here for was to get some dope on the rodeo,” Roy broke in. “While we’ve seen ’em, of course, we’ve never been in any. Teddy and I are going to have a try for some of the prizes.” “Rodeo? Listen, brother!” Pop exclaimed. “I’ll give you the low down on them events. There’s one thing you want to be careful of--steer bulldoggin’. There’s nothin’ in it, an’ it’s too dangerous. It ain’t worth the trouble. Now wild cow milkin’--there’s somethin’ for your money! I used to be a great little milker myself. One time, down San Antonio way, I milked a--” “Dad told us about it,” Teddy laughed. “He said you--” “If he told you, there’s no use repeatin’ it,” Pop said hurriedly. He appeared somewhat taken aback. Roy wondered what his interpretation of the occasion would have been. “But anyway,” he continued, “that’s great sport.” “We were thinking of entering that,” Roy explained. “That, and trick riding and bronco busting. Maybe pony express. Dad says he’s coming to watch us.” “Try an’ keep the boss away,” Gus chuckled. “Especially with his sons ridin’. When you boys gonna practice?” “Every day, from now on,” Teddy declared. “Any suggestions will be appreciated. Pop, we’re counting on you to help us out.” “Any time, boys, any time. ’Bout three years since I went to a cowboy reunion, but I guess I ain’t forgotten.” “How many years?” Nick inquired, with a grin. “Three, I said! Well, maybe a little longer. But, anyway, I’d like to see a prize or two come to the X Bar X. Ain’t had any since yore dad was in the ring. He was the one who could nab ’em! Don’t suppose he said much about how many he won. Most likely told about the ones he missed up on. Right?” “That’s right,” Teddy laughed. “No wonder he was anxious to have Roy and me cash in for a prize. Well, we’ll do the best we can. Now there’s something else I--that is, Roy and I--want to talk about. Nick, what do you know about the Lefton brothers?” “Nothin’ more than I told you, Teddy, except that I didn’t take to ’em much. When you told me they was pallin’ with Mob Jamisson I wasn’t much surprised.” “Uh-huh.” Teddy nodded understandingly. “Roy, here, heard some funny remarks they made when they didn’t think he was listening. Did he tell you?” “Told him most of it,” Roy said. “You know--about the cars and the eight mile grade, and the rest of it. You couldn’t make much out of it, could you, Nick?” “Nothin’ at all. But--” “Eight miles from where?” Pop interrupted. “Maybe from the Jarmey place. That mean anything?” “Well, not exactly,” Pop said slowly. “That Jarmey place is an old station that used to be a shipping point. Only thing it’s good for now is to keep rats in. An’ there’s plenty of them. Say, who was this geezer what wants the six hundred head, Teddy?” “Peterson, his name is. Peter Peterson, I think. Ever hear of him?”