His visitor rose and put foot in stirrup.

“If any of these Mexicans grow ugly, let me know,” he remarked.  “I’ll tell them where to head in.  Drop in at my office at the courthouse when you’re in town; Winship’s my name.  I brought these notices over myself in order to look at you, for they were saying you are a trouble-maker, but that’s what these natives frequently state when they want to fix an alibi for themselves before they start something.  I’ll see if I can learn anything of the fellow who was up yonder shooting.  These hombres are altogether too free with firearms, anyway.  Better feed that lad there with you a few more meals a day; looks as if he could use them.”

Bryant laughed.

“Dave’s a little lean, but he’s all there.  Looks don’t count, do they, partner?”

“I do the best I can,” Dave responded, solemnly.

“Not at meal-time, I reckon,” the sheriff said.  “Feed up and get fat.  A kid like you has no business having so many joints and bones sticking out.”

“I been through a hard winter last winter, and this spring, too, till Mr. Bryant picked me up.”

“How’s that?” the horseman inquired.

“My mother died at Kennard.  I didn’t get on very well after that; not much there for a boy to work at.  And I hadn’t any folks.”

“Hump.  What’s your last name?”

“Morris.”

“Any relation to Jack Morris?”

“He was my father.”

The sheriff nodded.  “Knew him well; he died four years ago.  And your mother died last winter?  Little woman, I recall.”

“Little, but a lot better than plenty of bigger ones I know of,” Dave asserted, stoutly.  “She died of pneumonia.”

“Boy, I’ve held you on my knee when you were about as high as my hand.  But I guess you don’t remember that, and I’m mighty sorry to learn your mother’s gone.  Dave—­is that your name?  Well, now, Dave, fight your grub harder from now on.”

The speaker gathered his reins, nodded, and rode away along the barb wire fence.

CHAPTER VI

“When gentlemen of a dark and sinister cast of mind deliberately set out to frustrate one’s legitimate efforts under a misapprehension as to the course to be pursued, the proper diplomacy in such a case is to foster the delusion circulating in their craniums as long as possible and thus divert their attention from the real purpose.  Don’t you agree with me, David?” Lee Bryant gravely inquired of his young companion, as they were about to set forth next morning.

“Yes, sir,” Dave affirmed, to whom the statement was so much Greek.

“Then since the vote is unanimous, we’ll proceed to run a line along the mountain side where it will collide with these new homesteads.”

The engineer shouldered tripod and rod, whistled Mike to heel, and with Dave started forward.  Half way to Bartolo they perceived three men busy on the hillside, so Bryant swung up to a point a quarter of a mile off and began surveying.  When he approached the workmen, Mexicans naturally, he saw that they were engaged in setting fence posts, of which a row was already in line part way up the hill.