One never can tell when he will run onto just the thing he's
looking for when he least expects it."
"We're being shadowed," said Ted, a short time after they had left their
hotel and were walking through the streets toward the bridge that spans
the Mississippi River to East St. Louis.
"How d'yer know?" asked Bud, sending a cautious eye around.
"See that fellow with the checked suit, on the opposite side of the
street?"
"Uh-huh!"
"He's on our trail. Don't give him a hint that we're on to him, and if
he chases us all day he'll see that we are what we represent ourselves
to be, just plain cow-punchers."
"I'm on."
The man in the checked suit got on the same trolley car with them at the
bridge, and while they were walking through the stockyards they saw him
frequently, not always in evidence, but always somewhere in their
vicinity.
They visited the offices of the commission merchants who dealt in
horseflesh, and got their prices for the sort of stock the boys had to
sell, and before the day was over they had disposed of six carloads of
horses for immediate delivery.
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