“Over there on the left. . . . No, follow my finger. See, way over there just the other side of that bunch of chaparral--” “What, Bud? What is chaparral?” “Oh, my gosh! That bunch of--see, that thicket over there. That’s the line and--hot damn!” Elaine saw what he was looking at, just as little white puffs of smoke went floating up from the chaparral. She saw what looked to be several men on horseback burst out of it, heading south. A moment afterward she could just barely see two men come out on foot, go to where there were two horses, get on them and ride along the west border of the clump. “That’s Sam and Bill Earp, darn their onery hides!” announced Bud. “Sneakin’ off on me this-a-way!” “What? How can you tell from here who they are? I can hardly see them. What were they doing? Bud Yancey, you better come out of it and tell me.” “Shucks,” said Bud, his eyes still on the two men, “I can see them plain enough. Those darn’ jaspers must have got a tip that something was coming across. Wait till I meet up with those polecats, goin’ off like that without me.” “Did you hear what I said?” demanded Elaine. “I am not accustomed to having my questions totally ignored, Mr. Yancey. What were they doing down there?” “I just told you,” answered Bud. “Some gents were trying to get across the line, and Sam and Bill Earp stopped them--that’s all.” “How lucid!” said Elaine hotly. “What a word-painter you are! Some gents were trying to get across the line, and Sam and Bill Earp stopped them, that’s all,” she mimicked. “That tells a lot, doesn’t it?” “Doggone it,” answered the surprised Bud, “how else can I tell you?” “It isn’t what you tell; it’s the way you told it. You tossed it out at me like a--like a--the way you would a bone to a dog. Who do you think you are, to talk that way to me? I’m not--” “For Pete’s sake,” interrupted the still surprised Bud. “I don’t know a thing about it, honest Injun. You asked--” “Yes, I did,” said Elaine angrily. Her hand went to the gear-shift, and her little arched foot to the starter. “Well, I’m going down there and see just--” “Hold ’er,” said Bud, sitting up straight. “You can’t go down there. There may be some more that have sneaked over before Sam and Bill got there.” “What? I _can’t_! Who are you to tell me what I can do? Are you afraid, Mr. Yancey, and you a ranger?” “I told you not to,” said Bud. As he spoke, his left foot came against the gear-shift, and he reached over and shut off the ignition. “You dare!” flared Elaine, who had the full complement of temper that is supposed to go with red hair, and hers was brick red, not bronze nor auburn. “Take your foot away--get out of this car!” “I wont,” returned Bud, “not any. That’s darn’ dangerous ground down there at the minute, and you’re not going down there, a-tall.”