ble. An' Buck sure gave it
to them!"

"Tell me about it," the girl said quickly. "Who are the Bedloe boys?
What did they do?"

"The Bedloe boys," Mrs. Smith ran on, eager in the recounting, "belong
over to the Corners. Or the Corners belongs to them, I don't know which
you'd say. Never heard of them boys? Well, most folks has. There used to
be lots like the Bedloe boys when I was a girl, Miss, but thank gracious
they're getting thinned out powerful fast. First an' last an' all the
time they're rowdies an' gunfighters an' bad men. There's more of their
kind in Hill's Corners, but these are the worst of the outfit. They keep
close in to the Corners, seeing it's right on the state line, where they
can dodge from one state to another when it comes handy. Which is right
often.

"There's three of 'em. Charley an' Ed an' the youngest one everybody
calls the Kid. That's three an' I guess there's a good many more would
be glad of the chance to shoot Buck up. I guess the Bedloes heard that
time that John was sick. Anyway, they come over, all three of 'em,
hunting trouble. Buck was out in the barn, feeding the horses, an' they
didn't know he was on the ranch. The Kid, he's the youngest of the mess
an' the worst an' the han'somest, with them little yeller curls, an' his
daredevil blue eyes, come on ahead, riding his horse right up to the
door, yelling like a drunk Injun an' cussing so it made a woman wonder
how any woman could ever have a son like him. He tried to ride his horse
right in the door, an' when it got scared of me an' John lyin' in bed,
an' rared up, the Kid hit it over the head with the gun in his hand, an'
slipped out'n the saddle, laughin' at it stagger.

"But he come on in an' Charley come in, too. Ed Bedloe was out in the
far corral, gettin' ready to throw the gate open an' turn out the cows
an' stampede 'em off'n the ranch. What for?" She lifted her bony
shoulders. "Oh, nothin'. They'd jus' had trouble with my John about six
months before, an' was taking a good chance to smash up things in
general about the ranch. They swore they was going to burn the cabin an'
the barn an' scatter the stock an' do anything else they could put their
hands to. An' while they was in here, cussing an' abusing my John, who
couldn't even get up an' grab his shotgun in the corner, an' insulting
me all they could lay their dirty tongues to, there's a step at the
door right behind 'em, light as a cat, an' here's Buck come in from the