Of course, when I was reported
killed in Siberia, Loustalot's attorneys naturally informed him that my
judgment had died with me unless I had left a will in favor of my
father. But when my father died intestate and there were no known
heirs, Loustalot doubtless felt that at last the curse had been lifted
and probably began doing business in his own name. He's a thrifty
fellow and, I dare say, he made a great deal of money on sheep during
the war. I hope he has. That old judgment has been accumulating
interest at seven per cent. for more than a quarter of a century, and
in this state I believe the interest is compounded."
"But why did Loustalot hate your father so?" the girl queried.
"We had good fences on our ranch, but somehow those fences always
needed repairing whenever Andre Loustalot's flock wandered over from
the San Carpojo. In this state, one cannot recover for trespass unless
one keeps one's fences in repair--and Loustalot used to trespass on our
range quite frequently and then blame his cussedness on our fences. Of
course, he broke our fences to let his sheep in to water at our
waterholes, which was very annoying to us, because sheep befoul a range
and destroy it; they eat down to the very grass-roots, and cattle will
not drink at a water-hole patronized by sheep. Well, our patience was
exhausted at last; so my father told Pablo to put out saltpeter at all
of our water-holes.
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