agons of the Double-Crank had stopped to tarry over the Fourth
at Fighting Wolf Spring, which bubbles from under a great rock in a
narrow "draw" that runs itself out to a cherry-masked point halfway
up the side of Fighting Wolf Butte. Billy, with wisdom born of much
experience in the ways of a round-up crew when the Fourth of July
draws near, started his riders at day-dawn to rake all Fighting Wolf
on its southern side. "Better catch up your ridge-runners," he had
cautioned, "because I'll set yuh plumb afoot if yuh don't." The boys,
knowing well his meaning and that the circle that day would be a
big one over rough country, saddled their best horses and settled
themselves to a hard day's work.

Till near noon they rode, and branded after dinner to the tune of much
scurrying and bawling and a great deal of dust and rank smoke, urged
by the ever-present fear that they would not finish in time. But their
leader was fully as anxious as they and had timed the work so that by
four o'clock the herd was turned loose, the fires drenched with water
and the branding irons put away.

At sundown the long slope from Fighting Wolf Spring was dotted for
a space with men, fresh-shaven, clean-shirted and otherwise
rehabilitated, galloping eagerly toward Hardup fifteen miles away.
That they had been practically in the saddle since dawn was a trifle
not to be considered; they would dance until another dawn to make up
for it.

Hardup, decked meagrely in the colors that spell patriotism, was
unwontedly alive and full of Fourth of July noises. But even with
the distraction of a holiday and a dance just about to start and the
surrounding country emptied of humans into the town, the clatter
of the Double-Crank outfit--fifteen wiry young fellows hungry for
play--brought men to the doors and into the streets.

Charming Billy, because his eagerness was spiced with expectancy, did
not stop even for a drink, but made for the hotel. At the hotel he
learned that his "crowd" was over at the hall, and there he hurried so
soon as he had removed the dust and straightened his tie and brushed
his hair and sworn at his upstanding scalp-lock, in the corner of the
hotel office dedicated to public cleanliness.

It was a pity that such single-hearted effort must go unrewarded, but
the fact remains that he reached the hall just as the couples were
promenading for the first waltz. He was permitted the doubtful
pleasure of a welcoming nod from Flora as she we