"Cleaned the range up fair to middlin'.

An' since I quit Belllounds I've been hangin' round with my young pard here, Wils Moore, an' interestin' myself in lookin' up cattle tracks." Burley's back was toward Belllounds and his son, so it was impossible for them to see the sudden little curious light that gleamed in his eyes as he looked hard at Wade, and then at Moore.
"Wils Moore.

How d'ye do?
I reckon I remember you, though I don't ride up this way much of late years." The cowboy returned the greeting civilly enough, but with brevity.
Belllounds cleared his throat and stepped forward.

His manner showed he had a distasteful business at hand.
"Moore, I sent for you on a serious matter, I'm sorry to say." "Well, here I am.

What is it ?" returned the cowboy, with clear, hazel eyes, full of fire, steady on the old rancher's.
"Jack, you know, is foreman of White Slides now.