time to catch the last stockyards car.
His watch told him that it was two minutes past twelve.

He stepped forty-five minutes later into an office in which sat two men
with their feet on a desk. The one in his shirt-sleeves was a smug,
baldish young man with clothes cut in the latest mode. He was rather
heavy-set and looked flabby. The other man appeared to be a visitor.

"This the office of the Denver Terminal Stockyards Company?" asked Dave.

The clerk looked the raw Arizonan over from head to foot and back again.
The judgment that he passed was indicated by the tone of his voice.

"Name's on the door, ain't it?" he asked superciliously.

"You in charge here?"

The clerk was amused, or at least took the trouble to seem so. "You might
think so, mightn't you?"

"Are you in charge?" asked Dave evenly.

"Maybeso. What you want?"

"I asked you if you was runnin' this office."

"Hell, yes! What're your eyes for?"

The clerk's visitor sniggered.

"I've got a train of cattle on the edge of town," explained Dave. "The
stockyards engine didn't show up."

"Consigned to us?"

"To the Denver Terminal Stockyards Company."

"Name of shipper?"

"West Cattle Company and Henry B. West."

"All right. I'll take care of 'em." The clerk turned back to his friend.
His manner dismissed the cowpuncher. "And she says to me, 'I'd love to go
with you, Mr. Edmonds; you dance like an angel.' Then I says--"

"When?" interrupted Dave calmly, but those who knew him might have
guessed his voice was a little too gentle.

"I says, 'You're some little kidder,' and--"

"When?"

The man who danced like an angel turned halfway round, and looked at the
cowboy over his shoulder. He was irritated.

"When what?" he snapped.

"When you goin' to onload my stock?"

"In the morning."

"No, sir. You'll have it done right now. That stock has been more'n two
days without water."

"I'm not responsible for that."

"No, but you'll be responsible if the train ain't onloaded now," said
Dave.

"It won't hurt 'em to wait till morning."

"That's where you're wrong. They're sufferin'. All of 'em are alive now,
but they won't all be by mo'nin' if they ain't 'tended to."

"Guess I'll take a chance on that, since you say it's my responsibility,"
replied the clerk impudently.

"Not none," announced the man from Arizona. "You'll get busy pronto."

"Say, is this my business or yours?"

"Mine and yours both."

"I guess I can run it. If I