as we mounted, leaving
two vaqueros to take the hide. "I despise wild cattle, and I've been
hungering to get a shot at that fellow for the last three years.
Enrique, the day the baby is born, I'll buy it a new cradle, and Tom
shall have a new saddle and we'll charge it to Las Palomas--she's the
girl that pays the bills."

Scarcely a day passed but similar experiences were related around the
camp-fire. In fact, as the end of the work came in view, they became
commonplace with us. Finally the two outfits were united at the general
hide yard near the home ranch. Coils of small rope were brought from
headquarters, and a detail of men remained in camp, baling the flint
hides, while the remainder scoured the immediate country. A crude press
was arranged, and by the aid of a long lever the hides were compressed
into convenient space for handling by the freighters.

When we had nearly finished the killing and baling, an unlooked-for
incident occurred. While Deweese was working down near Shepherd's Ferry,
report of our work circulated around the country, and his camp had been
frequently visited by cattlemen. Having nothing to conceal, he
had showed his list of outside brands killed, which was perfectly
satisfactory in most instances. As was customary in selling cattle, we
expected to make report of every outside hide taken, and settle for
them, deducting the necessary expense. But in every community there
are those who oppose prevailing customs, and some who can always see
sinister motives. One forenoon, when the baling was nearly finished, a
delegation of men, representing brands of the Frio and San Miguel, rode
up to our hide yard. They were all well-known cowmen, and Uncle Lance,
being present, saluted them in his usual hearty manner. In response
to an inquiry--"what he thought he was doing"--Uncle Lance jocularly
replied:--

"Well, you see, you fellows allow your old bulls to drift down on my
range, expecting Las Palomas to pension them the remainder of their
days. But that's where you get fooled. Ten cents a pound for flint hides
beats letting these old stagers die of old age. And this being an idle
season with nothing much to do, we wanted to have a little fun. And
we've had it. But laying all jokes aside, fellows, it's a good idea to
get rid of these old varmints. Hereafter, I'm going to make a killing
off every two or three years. The boys have kept a list of all stray
brands killed, and you can look them over and se