by the milling cattle. Calves
stretched their necks and blatted for their mothers, which kept up in
turn a steady bawling for their strayed offspring. They were conscious
that something unusual was in progress, something that threatened their
security and comfort, and they resented it in the only way they knew.

Car after car was jammed full of the frightened creatures as the men
moved from pen to pen, threw open and shut the big gates, and hustled the
stock up the chutes. Dave had begun work at six in the morning. A glance
at his watch showed him that it was now ten o'clock.

A middle-aged man in wrinkled corduroys and a pinched-in white hat drove
up to the fence. "How're they coming, Sam?" he asked of the foreman in
charge.

"We'd ought to be movin' by noon, Mr. West."

"Fine. I've decided to send Garrison in charge. He can pick one of the
boys to take along. We can't right well spare any of 'em now. If I knew
where to find a good man--"

The lean Arizona-born youth slid from the fence on his prod-pole and
stepped forward till he stood beside the buckboard of the cattleman.

"I'm the man you're lookin' for, Mr. West."

The owner of the Fifty-Four Quarter Circle brand looked him over with
keen eyes around which nets of little wrinkles spread.

"What man?" he asked.

"The one to help Mr. Garrison take the cattle to Denver."

"Recommend yoreself, can you?" asked West with a hint of humor.

"Yes, sir."

"Who are you?"

"Dave Sanders--from Arizona, first off."

"Been punchin' long?"

"Since I was a kid. Worked for the D Bar Lazy R last."

"Ever go on a cattle train?"

"Twice--to Kansas City."

"Hmp!" That grunt told Dave just what the difficulty was. It said, "I
don't know you. Why should I trust you to help take a trainload of my
cattle through?"

"You can wire to Mr. Crawford at Malapi and ask him about me," the young
fellow suggested.

"How long you ride for him?"

"Three years comin' grass."

"How do I knew you you're the man you say you are?"

"One of yore boys knows me--Bud Holway."

West grunted again. He knew Emerson Crawford well. He was a level-headed
cowman and his word was as good as his bond. If Em said this young man
was trustworthy, the shipper was willing to take a chance on him. The
honest eye, the open face, the straightforward manner of the youth
recommended his ability and integrity. The shipper was badly in need of
a man. He made up his mind to wire.

"Let you know lat