"Well," he remarked comfortably, "somebody'll be down from the mill
soon."
The riverman turned on him almost savagely.
"Down soon!" he snorted. "So'll the water be 'down soon.' It's dropping
every minute. That telegraft of yours won't even start out before
to-morrow morning. Don't you fool yourself. That Twin Falls outfit is
just too tickled to do us up. It'll be two days before anybody shows up,
and then where are you at? Hell!" and the old riverman relapsed into a
disgusted silence.
Considerably perturbed, Bob hunted up Larsen.
"Look here, Larsen," said he, "they tell me a delay here is likely to
hang up this drive. Is that right?"
The old man looked at his interlocutor, his brow wrinkled.
"I wish Darrell was in charge," said he.
"What would Darrell do that you can't do?" demanded Bob bluntly.
"That's just it; I don't know," confessed Larsen.
"Well, I'd get some weapons up town and drive that gang off," said Bob
heatedly.
"They'd have a posse down and jug the lot of us," Larsen pointed out,
"before we could clear the river." He suddenly flared up. "I ain't no
river boss, and I ain't paid as a river boss, and I never claimed to be
one.
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