Dave hurried to the door. "Hey!" he shouted. "Hadn't I better send him that check, anyhow? He may need it before you get there."
A roar of laughter from behind answered him, and he wheeled to face Arch. "When does th' mail leave?" asked the puncher.
"Day after tomorrow," answered Dave, and swung around as a voice from the street rubbed it in.
"You must 'a' played hookey from that school, Dave," jeered Arnold.
"He's fat clean to th' bald spot," shouted Arch. "Come on in, Dave. We ain't got time to hold back for no mail to get there first." He stuck his head out of the window. "So-long, fellers! See you at th' ford."
Dave watched the three until they were well along the trail and then he turned slowly. "I never did really doubt th' stories Nelson told about that old outfit, but if I had any doubts I ain't got them no more. Did you see th' looks in their eyes when you was tellin' about Nelson?"
"I did!" snapped Arch. "Why in h—l ain't I got whiskers?"
Reaching the SV, Arnold and his companions put up the horses and walked slowly toward the house, seeing a flurry of white through the kitchen door.
"Think it'll reach him in time?" asked Red, waiting outside the door for Arnold to enter first.
"Ought to. Slim said he would mail it at Highbank as soon as he got there," answered Arnold.
"I shore hope so," said Red. "I'd hate to have that ride for nothin'—an' it would just be our luck to pass him somewhere on th' way, an' get there after he left."
