It was absurdly simple, and evidently the ruse had worked to perfection.
"Where are the boys at now ?" he asked abruptly, turning to Patsy who had risen and knocked the ashes from his pipe and was slicing bacon.
"Gone after the cattle.

Dey stampede alreatty mit all der noise," Patsy growled, with his back to Irish.
So it was just as Irish had suspected.

He faced the west and the gathering bank of "thunder heads" that rode swift on the wind and muttered sullenly as they rode, and he hesitated.

Should he go after the boys and help them round up the stock and drive it back, or should he stay where he was and watch the claims?
There was that fence--he must see to that, too.
He turned and asked Patsy if all the boys were gone.

But Patsy did not know.
Irish stood in the doorway until breakfast was ready whereupon he sat down and ate hurriedly--as much from habit as from any present need of haste.