eason come
riding in, till their bronchos was nigh foundered, sayin' a bunch of
twenty cows on the Bandy Creek station has gone too. D'you git that?
Those blamed calves was on the Bandy Creek range, too. It's darnation
cattle-thievin', an' I'm hot on the trail."

And Barnriff was stirred. It was more. It was up in arms. There was no
stronger appeal to its sympathies than the cry of "cattle-thief!" As a
village it lived on the support of the surrounding ranches, and their
ills became the scourge of this hornet's nest of sharp traders.
McLagan had raised the cry here knowing full well the hatred he would
stir, and the support that would be accorded him should he need it.

He had come and gone a veritable firebrand, and the hot trail he had
left behind him was smouldering in a manner unhealthy for the
cattle-thieves.

When Peter Blunt entered the saloon it was to receive McLagan's tale
from all sides. And while he listened to the story, now garbled out of
all semblance of its original form by the whiskey-stimulated
imaginations, he found himself wondering how it came that Jim Thorpe
had given him no word of it. And he said so.

"Say, boys," he observed, when he got a chance to speak, "I only left
Jim Thorpe a while back. He rode in to see me. He didn't give me word
of this."

It was Abe Horsley who explained.

"McLagan came in looking for him. Jim's only got the week old stuff.
The news hit the ranch at sundown to-day."

Peter nodded.

"I see."

"You'll see more, Peter," broke in Smallbones viciously. "You'll see a
vigilance committee right here, if this gambol don't quit. Barnriff
don't stand for cattle-duffin' worth a cent."

"Upsets trade," lumbered Jake Wilkes, with the tail of his eye on the
busy Smallbones.

Gay laughed ponderously.

"Smallbones'll show us how to form a corporation o' vigilantes. Though
it ain't a finance job."

"Ay, that I will. I'm live anyways. I've had to do with 'em before."

"You didn't get hanged," protested Jake, after heavy thought. "Guess
you ain't got no kick coming."

Smallbones purpled to the roots of his bristly hair. Jake irritated
him to a degree, and the roar of laughter which greeted the
slow-witted baker's sally set him completely on edge.

"Guess I was on the other end of the rope," he retorted, trying to
turn the laugh, but the baker, with grave deliberation, added to his
score.

"Which was a real mean trick o' fortune on us folks o' Barnriff," he
murmure