ashed a broncho, on top of which rode
a rough-looking cowboy, wearing a red shirt and a big slouch hat.
"Who went and shot that steer?"

"I did," answered Dick. "Was he yours?"

"He was, and you had no right to touch him," growled the cowboy.

"Didn't I, though?" said Dick. "Are you aware that he came close to
hurting us? He charged full tilt at my brother's horse."

"Stuff and fairy tales, boy. That steer was all right. He broke away
from the drove, but he wouldn't hurt a flea."

"We know better," put in Tom.

"If my brother hadn't killed him, he would probably have killed my
horse, and maybe me," added Sam.

"Somebody has got to pay for the damage done," growled the cowboy.
"I am not going to stand for it, not me, so sure as my name is Jim
Jones." And he shook his head determinedly.

"Well, Mr. Jones, I am sorry I had to kill your steer, but it had to
be done, and that is all there is to it," said Dick calmly.

"That ain't payin' for the critter, is it?"

"No."

"An' do you reckon I'm goin' to let the boss take the price out o'
my wages?" continued Jim Jones warmly.

"Isn't the steer worth something as meat?"

"Yes, but not near as much as he was wuth on the hoof."

"We might take up a collection for Mr. Jones, if he is a poor man,"
suggested Songbird, who did not want any trouble.

"But we haven't got to do it," broke in Tom. "It was his business
not to let the steer run wild in the first place."

"So you're going to take a hand, eh?" stormed the cowboy; then,
feeling he was in the minority, he went on more humbly: "Yes, I'm a
poor man, and this may get me discharged."

"How much do you think we ought to pay?" asked Dick. "Name a reasonable
price and I may settle, just to avoid trouble, and not because I
think I ought to pay."

"How about fifty dollars?" asked the cowboy with a shrewd look in
his fishy, blue eyes.

"Cut it in half, and I may meet you," came from Dick. "He was no
blue-ribbon animal."

The cowboy tried to argue, but the Rovers and their chums would not
listen, and in the end Jim Jones said he would accept twenty-five
dollars and let it go at that. He said he would have the steer carted
away before night.

"Where do you come from?" asked Dick after paying over the money.

"From the Cassibel ranch, sixty miles north-west from here. I and my
pard were driving some cattle to town, when this steer got scared at
a rattlesnake and broke away."

"I don't blame him," said Fred. "I