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Updated: June 21, 2025
Really you can't and I don't want to spoil your evening. "We're going to wait for the Doc, Eve," said Jim, firmly. Her eagerness to be rid of them was painfully evident, and so unlike her. "Yes," agreed Peter, "we better wait for the Doc, Eve. You see we came down to pay you a party call." "A party call?" "Yes. Y'see Jim rode in from the 'AZ's' to pay you a party call."
McLagan's busy breaking horses, and he told me to get right out after the ceremony." "Sure," nodded Peter, "I won't keep you long. I'd heard there was breaking on the 'AZ's. That's just it. Now, I'm looking for a couple of plugs. One for saddle, and the other to carry a pack. You see, I've struck color in a curious place, and it promises good.
It was such an evening on the ranch of the "AZ's." All these conditions were prevailing, except that the mind of Dan McLagan, the owner, was disturbed. Six of his boys were out on the special duty of searching for stolen cattle. This was bad enough, but Dan was fretting and chafing at the unpleasant knowledge that the epidemic of cattle stealing was spreading all too quickly.
The "AZ's" lost two more bunches of cattle within a week. Then came a raid on the "U U's." Sandy McIntosh cursed the rustlers in the broadest Scotch, and set out to scour the country with his boys. Another ranch to suffer was the "crook-bar," but they, like the "TT's," couldn't tell the extent of their losses definitely, and estimated them at close on to thirty head of three-year-old beeves.
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