frowningly at the old
cattleman. The purplish color of rage mounted in Carson's tanned
cheeks.

"You'll do what you're told or go get your time," he announced tersely.
"We've got an order for five hundred beef cows and we're selling
immediately."

Carson's jaw dropped.

"What?" he demanded, not quite believing his ears. "Say that again,
will you?"

"I said it once," retorted Hampton. "Now get busy."

"Who are we selling to? I ain't heard about it."

"An oversight, my dear Mr. Carson," laughed Hampton, his own anger
risen. "Quite an oversight that you were not consulted. We are
selling to Doan, Rockwell & Haight. Ever heard of them?"

"Who says we're selling?"

"I say so. And, if you've got to have all the news, Miss Sanford says
so."

"She does, does she? Hm-m. First I knew of it. What figger?"

"Really, does that concern you? If the price suits me and Miss
Sanford, who own the stock, does it in any way affect you? I don't
want to quarrel with you, Carson, and I do appreciate that you are a
good man in your way. But just because you have worked here a long
time, don't make the mistake of thinking that you own the ranch."

With that he whirled his horse, and was gone. Carson, with puckered
brows, stared after him.

But orders were orders, and Carson though the heart was sore, barked
out his commands to his herders to turn the cattle back toward the
lower fields. He had been converted to the new way, he had grown to
dream of the fat prices his cow brutes would fetch in the winter
market, he knew that prices now were rock-bottom low, that Doan,
Rockwell & Haight were close buyers who before now had cut the throat
of the Blue Lake ranch in sacrifice sales when Bayne Trevors ran the
outfit.

"We're standing to lose thousan's an' thousan's of dollars," he told
himself in disgust. "All we've spent on irrigation an' fences an'
silos an' ditches, all gone to heck in a han'-basket. Not counting
thousan's of more dollars lost in selling at what we can get this time
of year. It makes me sick, damn throwin'-up sick."

Riding down a long, winding trail, out through a patch of chaparral
into a rocky gorge, Hampton turned east again toward the higher
plateau. Taking the roundabout way which led from the far side of the
lake and along the flank of the mountain to the table-land, he came to
a scattering band of horses and Tommy Burkitt.

"Where's Lee?" called Hampton.

Burkitt grinned at him by