"Is that so?" replied Sandy sarcastically. "Well, yuh just stick around
this arternoon, an' yuh'll realize what a plumb egreg'us idjut a feller
can become by livin' in town a spell. Why, yuh poor boob, the feller
you're backin' to rake in the chips ain't got even a ghost of a show."

Others of the citizens began to join in the argument, and words were
beginning to run high when Hotchkiss, the sheriff, galloped up on his
horse. "Here, here, boys," he exclaimed, "no hard feelin' on the glorious
Fourth. We're all here to have a good time, an' anybody that don't think
so can talk to me."

"All right, Bill," said Sandy soothingly; "we warn't allowin' to have
a scrap, but the people o' this yere town is got too big a idea o'
themselves, thet's all."

"Come away, Sandy," advised Dick, laughing. "Maybe we'll take a little of
the starch out of them this afternoon."

Sandy at last allowed himself to be persuaded, and the cowboys rode off.
Soon afterward the three boys left them, for they had arranged with Mr.
Melton to lunch with him at the principal hotel.

When they entered its doors he was waiting for them in the lobby, his
genial face beaming.

"Well, my lads," he exclaimed, "how do you like the way we spend our
holidays out here, eh?"

"Great!" exclaimed Bert, speaking for the others; "the boys certainly
know how to make things hum when they get started. There's something