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Updated: May 7, 2025
Come on, Bob; let's see what they've got for supper. That engine'll happen along directly, an' we'll be startin' hungry." Phil Acton was not ignorant of the different opinions that were held by the cattlemen regarding Honorable Patches. Nor, as the responsible foreman of the Cross-Triangle, could he remain indifferent to them.
The fact that the brand had been worked over established also the fact that it was the Cross-Triangle brand that had been changed, because the Cross-Triangle was the only brand in that part of the country that could be changed into the Four-Bar-M. Patches, dropping his easy manner, and speaking straight to the point, said, "Look here, Joe, you and I might as well get down to cases.
If you can't get them to a corral without too much trouble, just put the Cross-Triangle on the calf's ribs.
"You can make it home sometime to-morrow, Patches," he finished, when he had said good-by to the little group of men with whom he had lived and worked in closest intimacy through the long weeks of the rodeo. He reined his horse about, even as he spoke, to set out on his long ride. The Cross-Triangle foreman was beyond hearing of the cowboys when Patches overtook him.
That nice looking man, dressed just like thousands of men that we might see any day on the streets of Cleveland?" cried Helen. "Exactly," chuckled her husband, while the others laughed at her incredulous surprise. "But, just the same, that's Phil Acton; 'Wild Horse Phil, if you please. He is the cowboy foreman of the Cross-Triangle Ranch, and won the championship in the bronco riding last year."
Alone in the darkness, Honorable Patches smiled mockingly to himself. When morning came there was great excitement at the Cross-Triangle Ranch. Patches was missing. And more, the best horse in the Dean's outfit the big bay with the blazed face, had also disappeared. Quickly the news spread throughout the valley, and to the distant ranches.
The younger man, who was gazing stupidly at Patches, returned the salutation with an unintelligible mumble, and proceeded to roll a cigarette. "You folks at the Cross-Triangle short of horses?" asked Nick, with an evident attempt at jocularity, alluding to the situation of the two men, who were riding one horse. "We got mixed up with a bull back yonder," Phil explained briefly.
"Are you sure?" "Yes, sir. I watched them for half an hour." "What was in the bunch?" "Four steers, a Pot-Hook-S bull, five cows and this calf. There were three Five-Bar cows, one Diamond-and-a-Half and one Cross-Triangle. The calf went to the Cross-Triangle cow every time. And, besides, he is marked just like his mother. I saw her again this afternoon while we were working the cattle."
The stranger looked away into the blue distance in another vain attempt to see the red spots that marked the Cross-Triangle Ranch. Slowly the man returned to his seat on the rock. The long shadows of Granite Mountain crept out from the base of the cliffs farther and farther over the country below.
You know I am your friend, and I don't want to see you in trouble, but you can take it from me that you are in mighty serious trouble right now. I was hiding right there in those bushes, close enough to see all that happened, and I know that this is a Cross-Triangle calf, and that Nick and you worked the brand over.
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