to find out your
mistake. There is no occasion for further words, and you can either
order your outfit to turn your cattle east, or I'll send men and do it
myself."

The "major-domo" turned and galloped back to his men, a number of whom
had congregated near at hand. The next moment he returned and haughtily
threatened to surrender the cattle then and there unless he was allowed
to proceed. "Give him a receipt for his beeves, Fred," quietly remarked
an old cowman, gently stroking his beard, "and I'll take these boys over
here on the right and start the cattle. That will be the safest way,
unless the gentleman can indemnify us. I lost ten thousand dollars'
worth of stock last fall, and as a citizen of Montana I have objections
to leaving a trail of fever from here to the mouth of the Yellowstone.
And tell him he can have a bond for his cattle," called back the old man
as he rode out of hearing.

The lead herd was pointed to the east, and squads of men rode down and
met the other two, veering them off on an angle to the right. Meanwhile
the superintendent raved, pleaded, and threatened without avail, but
finally yielded and refused the receipt and dispossession of his cattle.
This was just what the quarantine captain wanted, and the dove of peace
began to shake its plumage. Within an hour all three of the herds
were moving out for the head of Wolf Creek, accompanied only by the
quarantine guards, the remainder of the posse returning to their homes
or their work. Having ample time on our hands, Sponsilier and I expected
to remain at Station No. 1 until after the 10th of September, and
accordingly made ourselves at home at that camp. To say that we were
elated over the situation puts it mildly, and that night the two of us
lost nearly a hundred dollars playing poker with the quarantine guards.
A strict vigilance was maintained over the herds in question, but
all reports were unanimous that they were contentedly occupying their
allotted range.

But at noon on the third day of the enforced isolation, a messenger from
Powderville arrived at the first station. A troop of cavalry from Fort
Keogh, accompanied by a pack-train, had crossed the Powder River below
the hamlet, their avowed mission being to afford an escort for certain
government beef, then under detention by the local authorities. The
report fell among us like a flash of lightning. Ample time had elapsed
for a messenger to ride to the Yellowstone, and, returning wit