Meanwhile, Slim and the Willies had just herded up their stolen cattle in an abandoned mine.

"Ha, ha!" laughed Slim. "Five-thousand Texas longhorns. Not bad for one night's work."

Two of the Willies, Phil and Bill, were not paying attention. They were playing with a paper fortune teller.

"Pick a color." Phil said to Bill.

"I said, 'not bad for one night's work!'" repeated Slim, whom the Willies turned their attention to and clapped their hands.

"And judging by the ear mark," Slim went on, examing one of the cows. "I'd say these are the last of Big Mike Donald's herd."

"Big Mike Donald had a farm?" asked Gil.

"E-l-E-l..." sang Phil and Bill before Slim bonked them in the heads with his fists. "Ohh..."

"That's right, he had a farm." said Slim as he walked up to his changing screen. "Now that all his cash cows have disappeared, that poor sap's gonna be flat broke. Perfect time for a certain upstanding land owner to step in and take all the land!"

When Slim came out of the screen, he was dressed as Yancy O'Del.

"Aah! Who are you?" asked Phil.

"What did you do with Uncle Slim?" added Bill.

"Put up your dukes, Mr. Fancy Britches." threatened Phil but Slim retaliated by squeezing his hand painfully. "Aah-aah-aah-aah-aah-aah!"

"It's me. Hello?" said Slim as he swatted Phil with his hat. "This here is the disguise I use to sneak into all them auctions and buy all the land, you brainless monotone monkeys."

"Shoot, you got to be the richest land baron in the west." said Gil.

"Yes, but the part that really warms my heart...is watching those homesteaders suffer." said Slim as he pulled an branding iron, in the shape of a dollar sign, from the stove and pressed it on Mike Donald's farm and the Dixon Ranch on his map.

"Back in the day, I worked the highfalutinest ranches you ever seen," he went on. "But those stuck-up ranch bosses couldn't appreciate my talents."

"Maybe they just didn't like your singing." said Phil.

Slim grinded his teeth in anger. "My singing?"

Bill quick covered his brother's mouth as Slim pointed the branding iron at them, saying. "Songbirds sing. Saloon gals sing. Little bitty snot-nosed children sing. I yodel! And yodeling is an art!"

"Well, maybe they just didn't like your yodeling." said Bill before Phil covered his mouth.

Slim angrily swung the branding iron at Phil and Bill, who dodged every one of his swings.

"He didn't mean it, Uncle Slim." said Gil. "Everybody likes yodeling."

Slim raised up an eyebrow. "Hmm?"

"Why, it's one of the funniest, cornball, goofy, silly sounds in the whole west."

Slim's temper bolied over as he swung the branding iron at Gil, but he ducked, revealing a piece of land unbranded on the map, which Slim looked at, shocked that he missed one.

"Uh, Gil?"

"Uh-huh?"

"Am I correct in assuming that each and every time we brought a herd back to this secret lair, you managed to sit in the exact same spot, blocking that choice piece of property from my view?!"

"This is my comfy place." Gil would say before Slim grabbed him by the neck.

"It's called Patch of Heaven, Uncle Slim." Phil said, looking at the newspaper. "Goes on auction Thursday morning."

"Perfect." said Slim, who released his grip on Phil. "Pencil it in. Thursday morning, right after we sell off this herd."

"But it's just a little old dirt farm." reminded Bill.

"Ah, what's the difference?" said Slim. "When you're talking revenge, every last acre counts."

Then he pressed the branding iron on his map, where Patch of Heaven is.