a couple of hours, and Bud wished everything to be clear for them.

Nearing the Big Horn, Sims suddenly drew up his horse, motioning Bud to
silence. Listening intently, they heard the voice of a man singing an old
familiar plains song. The two looked at each other in amazement, for this
was one of the "hymns" the cowboys use to still their cattle at night, the
time of the most dreaded stampedes. It was the universal theory of the cow
country that cattle, particularly on a "drive," should not be long out of
hearing of a human voice.

So the night-watchers, as they rode slowly about the herd, sang to the
cattle, although some of the ditties rendered were strong enough to
stampede a herd of kedge-anchors.

"Cows here?" said Sims. "What does this mean, boss?"

"It means that we're beaten to the ford and will have to hold the sheep
back."

"Yes, but who's driving now? This is round-up and branding season."

"I don't know, but between you and me, Sims, I'll bet a lamb to a calf
that the rustlers are running their big pickings north. There are some
mighty good heads at the top of that crowd, and they have taken advantage
of the deserted range, just as we have, to drive their critters."

"By George! You've hit it, boss!" cried Sims, slapping his thigh. "Now,
what do yuh say to do?"

For a long minute of silence Bud Larkin thought. Then he said:

"Here's my chance to get those rustlers and at the same time benefit
myself. There can't be more than a dozen or fifteen of them at the
outside. Ride back to the camp, Simmy, and get twenty men, the best
gun-rollers in the outfit. Tell anybody that's afraid of his hide to stay
away, for the rustlers are top-notch gun-fighters."

"But what'll yuh do with a thousand cattle on yore hands?" demanded
Hard-winter in amazement.

"I'll tell you that if we get 'em," was Bud's reply. "As I see it, we
can't do without them."

The plan of campaign was somewhat indefinite. The last intention in the
world was to frighten away the cattle by a grand charge and a salvo of
young artillery. With great caution the sheepmen approached near enough to
discern the white cover of the cook-wagon, when it was seen that the whole
herd was slowly moving toward the ford, the singing rustlers circling
around it.

Bud told off a dozen of his riders and instructed each to pick a man and
to ride as near in to him as possible without being seen. Then, at the
signal of a coyote's howl twice given, to close