"Well, did you see him?" asked Bob, as his friend rode up to the shed
and swung himself out of the saddle.
"I did," was the reply, "and he was as defiant as you please. He was
downright insolent."
"These white trash are as impudent as the niggers," said Bob, "and no
one who has the least respect for himself will have anything to do
with them. I used to think that Don Gordon was something of an
aristocrat, but now I know better."
"I wish I had given him a good cowhiding," continued Lester, who did
not think it worth while to state that he had been on the point of
attempting that very thing, but had thought better of it when he saw
how resolutely David stood his ground. "But never mind. We'll get
even with him. We'll touch his pocket, and that will hurt him worse
than a whipping. It will hurt the Gordons, too."
"Then he wouldn't promise to give up the idea of catching them
quails? I am sorry, for if we could only frighten him off the track,
we would write to that man up North telling him that the party with
whom he made his contract wasn't able to fill it, but we could catch
all the birds he wants in two weeks."
"That's a good idea--a splendid idea!" exclaimed Lester; "and perhaps
we'll do it any how, if the plan I have thought of doesn't prove
successful.
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