e--and then came the
sheep. So runs the epitaph of the range, and it was written plainly
across Dry Lake and its surroundings.

They went up a dusty trail and past the yawning wings of the stockyards
where a bunch of sheep blatted now in the thirst of mid-afternoon. They
stopped before the hotel where, in the old days, many a town-hungry
puncher had set his horse upon its haunches that he might dismount in a
style to match his eagerness. Luck climbed out and stood for a minute
looking up and down the sandy street that slept in the sun and dreamed,
it may be, of rich, unforgotten moments when the cow-punchers had come
in off the range and stirred the sluggish town to a full, brief life
with their rollicking. Across the street was Rusty Brown's place, with
its narrow porch deserted of loafers and its windows blinking at the
street with a blankness that belied the things they had looked upon in
bygone times.

A less experienced man than Luck would have been convinced by now that
here was no place to go seeking "real boys." But Luck had been a range
man himself before he took to making motion pictures; he knew range towns
as he knew men,--which was very well indeed. He looked, as he stood
there, not disgusted but mildly speculative. Two horses were tied to the
hitching rail before Rusty Brown's place. These horses bore saddles and
bridles, and, if you know the earmarks, you can learn a good deal about a
rider just by looking at his outfit. Neither saddle was new, but both
gave evidence of a master's pride in his gear. They were well-preserved
saddles. They had the conservative swell of fork that told Luck almost to
a year how old they were. One, he judged, was of California make, or at
least came from the extreme southwest of the cattle country. It had a
good deal of silver on it, and the tapideros were almost Mexican in their
elaborateness. The bridle on that horse matched the saddle, and the
headstall was beautiful with silver kept white and clean. The rope coiled
and tied beside the saddle fork was of rawhide. (Luck did not need to
cross the street to be sure of these details; observation was a part of
his profession.) The other saddle was the kind most favored on the
northern range. Short, round skirts, open stirrups, narrow and rimmed
with iron. Stamped with a two-inch border of wild rose design, it pleased
Luck by its very simplicity. The rope was a good "grass" rope worn smooth
and hard with much use.

Luck flippe