A little way beyond the house a small lake pictured its border of tall sedge, clear and still as a mirror, just as Fred Grubb had said. Cattle stood in the ease of repletion all about the valley, far-spread, numerous. Barrett wondered if they belonged to the Diamond Tail, and put the question to his friend.
"Yes, them mountains is the line of the Diamond Tail," Fred replied. "Them's your cattle down there, Ed; looks like they're comin' up home, don't it?"
"I'm afraid I haven't got enough left in them to make a pair of shoestrings from their hides," Barrett told him, already accepting as having come to pass Nearing's prophecy of the condition meddling would bring.
"Well, what do you think of the lay of the land?"
"It's the finest sight I ever saw, Fred. It feels to me like home."
"I always think I'm the heir of the Almighty and this is the estate that's come down to me when I look over that valley," said Fred. "Do you think we could buckle on our guns and hold them crooks off like a couple of men?"
"We can try it like a couple of men," Barrett said.
And that was all there was to the compact. The two adventurers turned their horses and resumed their journey to the ranch, this detour to view the seat of their future hopes having delayed them somewhat. Only Fred Grubb said, by way of settling all details:
"I've got to go to the ranch to get my time, then we'll rack on over to Saunders and see Charley Thomson. When we come back with our shootin' papers we'll go on over and take possession."
