as his brother had been before him. More than one man lifted his
shoulders at the question. And since there was no answer to be given
yet, since that was the one thing they were all thinking about, it was
almost a wordless meal.

In a little while Garth Conway was back at the bunk house and swung up
into the saddle, his perfect animal, his own graceful form, his
somewhat picturesque costume, riding breeches, puttees, wide soft hat
and gauntlets making a bit of pleasant colour against the
commonplaceness of the ranch yard. He waited impatiently a few minutes
until the men came out and then rode away toward the lower end of the
valley ordering them curtly to follow him. It was Garth's way; they
didn't know what the day's work was to be, although they might come
close to guessing, until he chose to tell them. Big Bill alone
remained behind, making his way with two horses to the house, where
Wayne came down the steps to meet him.

"Hello, Bill," Wayne greeted him lightly. "Feeling sore this morning?"

"Hello, Red," Big Bill retorted with what was meant to be a scowl but
which twisted itself in spite of him into a widening grin. "Not sore
outside, seein' as I fell easy. Jus' kinda sore inside thinkin' you'd
go an' play a low down Jap trick on a man. But nex' time . . ."

He shook his head in mock sorrow thinking of the thing that was going
to happen to the merry eyed man from whom he took his pay.

Red laughed, strapped on the spurs clinking at the saddle horn, vaulted
from the steps to his horse's back and bending suddenly forward shot
ahead of Big Bill, and sped toward the upper end of the valley where
the unused horses were grazing. The cowboy, racing behind him, watched
him with shrewd eyes and a grunted comment that he hadn't forgotten how
to ride.

When the horses had "run off" their early morning restlessness the two
men drew them down to a swinging walk and riding side by side found
much to talk about. Shandon asked about this, that and the other
horse, giving each its name as if they were men he spoke of, and Big
Bill reported promptly and in full detail. Brown Babe had been sick
during the winter; a cold running on until it was touch and go if she'd
go down with the pneumonia. Doc Trip had taken a hand though, Bill
himself having ridden thirty miles to fetch the cowboy who had a rude
skill as a veterinary and no little reputation with it, and Brown Babe
had pulled through as good as a two year