"Six times."

"And you've lived there?" This to Winter.

"Yes," glowered the big man, fearing the worst.

"Then the answer is 'fools,'" cackled Furneaux.

Wally laughed. He had remembered, just in time, that he had no right to
claim acquaintance with the representative of Scotland Yard, and there
were some farmers present, each of whom had a "likely animal" to offer
the buyer of blood stock.

"Gad, I think you're right," he said.

"You wanted me to say 'sheep,' I suppose?"

"Got it, at once."

"As though one valuable horse wasn't worth a thousand sheep."

"Just what my friend, Don Manoel Alcorta, of Los Andes ranch, Catamarca,
always held," put in Winter, drawing the bow at a venture.

Hart cocked an eye at him.

"Sir," he said, "I would take off my hat, if I wore one in Steynholme, to
any man who claims the friendship of Don Manoel Alcorta, a sincere
patriot. I suggest that we crack a bottle to his immortal memory."