m wisht his mother was a man, by
golly!"

Big Medicine looked toward the coulee rim. "I ain't got a shell left,"
he growled regretfully. "I wisht we'd thought to tell the boys to bring
them rifles. Say, Slim, you crawl onto your hoss and go git 'em. It
won't take more'n a minute. There'll likely be some shells in the
magazines."

"Go on, Slim," urged Weary grimly. "We've got to do something. They
can't do a thing like this--" he glanced down at Happy Jack-- "and get
away with it."

"I got half a box uh shells for my thirty-thirty, I'll bring that." Slim
turned to go, stopped short and stared at the coulee rim. "By golly,
they're comm' over here!" he exclaimed.

Big Medicine glanced up, took off his hat, crumpled it for a pillow
and eased Happy Jack down upon it. He got up stiffly, wiped his fingers
mechanically upon his trouser legs, broke his gun open just to make sure
that it was indeed empty, put it back and picked up a handful of rocks.

"Let 'em come," he said viciously. "I c'n kill every damn' one with m'
bare hands!"

CHAPTER XV. Oleson

"Say, ain't that Andy and Mig following along behind?" Cal asked after a
minute of watching the approach. "Sure, it is. Now what--"

"They're drivin' 'em, by cripes!" Big Medicine, under the stress of the
moment, returned to his usual bellowing tone. "Who's that tall, lanky
feller in the lead? I don't call to mind ever seem him before. Them four
herders I'd know a mile off."

"That?" Weary shaded his eyes with his hat-brim, against the slant rays
of the westering sun. "That's Oleson, Dunk's partner."

"His mother'd be a-weepin'," Big Medicine observed bodefully, "if she
knowed what was due to happen to her son right away quick. Must be him
that done the shootin'."

They came on steadily, the four herders and Oleson walking reluctantly
ahead, with Andy Green and the Native Son riding relentlessly in the
rear, their guns held unwaveringly in a line with the backs of their
captives. Andy was carrying a rifle, evidently taken from one of the
men--Oleson, they judged for the guilty one. Half the distance was
covered when Andy was seen to turn his head and speak briefly with the
Native Son, after which he lunged past the captives and galloped up to
the waiting group. His quick eye sought first the face of Happy Jack
in anxious questioning; then, miserably, he searched the faces of his
friends.

"Good Lord!" he exclaimed mechanically, dismounted and bent over the
fi