_vice versa_, this being a result, no doubt, of the manifold insults
they had suffered, and the fact that, as a rule, cowboys far outnumber
sheep-herders and run them off the country at will. The call to arms taken
north by Miguel had met with instant and enthusiastic response, and these
men had come south to wipe out in one grand melee their past disgraces.

During supper Sims told of Larkin's offer of five dollars a day, and the
riders nodded approvingly; it was the customary hire of fighting men in
the range wars.

"But how did you get down over the Bar T range?" asked the chief herder.

"We done that at night," replied Jimmie Welsh, who was a little man with a
ruddy face, bright eyes and a crisp manner of speech. "Tell me what's
that ungodly mess up in Little River; it was night an' we couldn't see?"

"Two thousand of Larkin's sheep," replied Sims, laconically, and an angry
murmur ran through the men. "Old Bissell, of the Bar T, stampeded 'em when
we were just a-goin' to get 'em through safe. Shot up one herder, lammed
cookee over the head an' raised ructions generally. Yes, boys, I'm plumb
shore we have one or two little matters to ask them Bar T punchers
about."

"But what's your orders, Simmy?" asked Welsh.

"I'm in charge o' the hull outfit till the boss shows up an' can do
whatever I want. I'm gettin' real concerned about him though, not hearin'
a word for a week. I 'low if he don't turn up to-morrow I'll have to send
you boys lookin' fer him."

But the morrow brought its own solution of the problem.

In the middle of the morning a lone horseman was seen approaching over the
hills, and the restless sheepmen, eager for any sport, spread out into a
veritable ambuscade, taking position behind rocks and in depressions along
the hills on either hand.

The horseman was very evidently a poor rider, for, instead of holding the
reins easily and jauntily in his upturned right hand, he was clinging to
the pommel of the saddle, while the pony slipped and slid along the
difficult path.

Within a furlong of the camp, the man's nationality was made apparent by
the flapping shirt and trousers he wore, as well as the black, coarse cue
that whipped from side to side.

Among the secreted sheepmen a grin spread from face to face at the sight
of this distressful figure, evidently in real wo from hours in the hard
saddle. About a hundred yards from camp a single shot rang out, and then
there arose such a wild chorus of