ing at a furious pace for the camp, and shortly the
horseman dashed up and inquired for Lovell. We all arose, when the
messenger dismounted and handed my employer a letter. Tearing open the
missive, the old man read it and turned ashy pale. The message was from
Mike Sutton, stating that a fourth member of the ring had arrived during
the forenoon, accompanied by a United States marshal from the federal
court at Omaha; that the officer was armed with an order of injunctive
relief; that he had deputized thirty men whom Tolleston had gathered,
and proposed taking possession of the two herds in question that
afternoon.

"Like hell they will," said Don Lovell, as he started for his horse. His
action was followed by every man present, including the one-armed guest,
and within a few minutes thirty men swung into saddles, subject to
orders. The camps of the two herds at issue were about four and five
miles down and across the river, and no doubt Tolleston knew of their
location, as they were only a little more than an hour's ride from
Ogalalla. There was no time to be lost, and as we hastily gathered
around the old man, he said: "Ride for your outfits, boys, and bring
along every man you can spare. We'll meet north of the river about
midway between Quince's and Tom's camps. Bring all the cartridges you
have, and don't spare your horses going or coming."

Priest's wagon was almost on a line with mine, though south of the
river. Fortunately I was mounted on one of the best horses in my string,
and having the farthest to go, shook the kinks out of him as old Paul
and myself tore down the mesa. After passing The Rebel's camp, I held my
course as long as the footing was solid, but on encountering the first
sand, crossed the river nearly opposite the appointed rendezvous. The
North Platte was fordable at any point, flowing but a midsummer stage
of water, with numerous wagon crossings, its shallow channel being about
one hundred yards wide. I reined in my horse for the first time near the
middle of the stream, as the water reached my saddle-skirts; when I came
out on the other side, Priest and his boys were not a mile behind me. As
I turned down the river, casting a backward glance, squads of horsemen
were galloping in from several quarters and joining a larger one which
was throwing up clouds of dust like a column of cavalry. In making a
cut-off to reach my camp, I crossed a sand dune from which I sighted the
marshal's posse less tha