He had a strange face, half humorous and half sinister. One moment he
would be merry and gay, but in an instant, and for an instant only, it
would change to suspicion and caution. He was lean of frame, but very
muscular, and his eyes were of a keen, piercing blue.
"Any particular reason for wanting to know?" asked Ted quizzically,
smiling up at the tatterdemalion of a cowboy.
"Well, I reckon," was the drawling reply. "I picked up six strays out
here a ways, an' they don't belong ter no brand in this yere part o'
ther country, so I suspicions they belong ter some pilgrims' road brand.
Now, yours is ther only bunch o' trail cattle what's passed this way
recently, an' me, bein' wise ter ther ways o' ther plains, hez ther
hunch thet they might be yours. Right cute o' me, wa'n't it?"
Ted laughed at the chap's half-humorous, half-serious manner.
"Our brand is the Lazy Z," he replied.
"Then them critters aire yourn. Look 'em over, an' if they don't belong
ter you, hand 'em back, an' I'll make 'em ther noocleus o' a herd o' my
own."
Ted rode up to the six strays, which were peacefully grazing not far
away, and examined the brand. They belonged to the herd, all right, and
he said so.
"Well, stranger, much obliged to you for picking them up and bringing
them in," said Ted.
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