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Well, it's the usual irate parent stuff, only a little more wild and ranty than anything Belasco would put over. He abuses Gilkey up and down, threatens him with all kinds of things, from arrest to sudden death, and gets purple in the face doin' it. While Gilkey, he just stands there, takin' it calm and patient.
"Yes, we're goin' to Nevady, down whar they're buildin' a big water-dam. Archie's down thar; makin' money a-plenty. There's a big stir on down thar. Everybody's a-workin' en Archie wants our he'p." "Well, I'm sorry yer a-leavin' but I'm glad fer this chance. I've wanted to see Archie ever since he he'ped me git them cattle across the Ranty that time. I owe him and now I've got a chance to pay."
"That's a dam downstream aways en the B-line waters a couple o' hundred acres." In these meadows there were cattle cows and calves and some scrub yearlings. Crossing the Ranty, the horsemen mounted to the levels again. Here, there were fences. Farther on, stables, sheds, and a cluster of houses. The B-line ranch.
Before Davy realized what was going on, Landy had lifted him to the saddle, mounted Gravy, clucked to Frosty and the procession moved out the gate. "I'll see you all in Adot, Saturday," called Davy without turning his head. "Good luck and bon voyage," called Adine. On the way down to the Ranty, the colt behaved remarkably well.
"Therefore, I didn't git up here in the headwaters of the Platte until years after, but from what I ketch they had some right stirrin' time in here, 'twixt cattle rustlin' and sheep crowdin'. Ole Jim knows the whole story, but he don't broadcast none." Topping a swell of the meadow lands another stream basin was encountered. "Hit's a little Ranty," explained Landy.
But he won't need shoes this winter; he's better off without 'em. If a bunglin' mechanic over thar will leave his feet alone he'll be all right till spring." Landy regarded the gibe as irrelevant. The saddle invited. Once aboard and before they reached the Ranty he was detailing answers to some of Davy's questions.
'Ye think nought o' taking oop wi' him about as ranty, wild a young feller as ever stepped. The girl reddened, and bit her lip. 'I don't know what you mean, Mr. Garstin. It seems to me ye're might hasty in jumpin' t' conclusions. 'Mabbe I kin see a thing or two, he retorted doggedly. 'Luke Stock's gone to London, anyway. 'Ay, an' a powerful good job too, in t' opinion o' some folks.
"Jim, didn't I hear you talkin'?" asked Anson. "Shore. I was coaxin' her. Reckon she ain't so ranty as she was. But she shore is doubled-up, an' sickish." "Wuss an' wuss all the time," said Anson, between his teeth. "An' where's Burt? Hyar it's noon an' he left early. He never was no woodsman. He's got lost." "Either thet or he's run into somethin'," replied Wilson, thoughtfully.
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