was easy. The
Bar-20 cared very little about what went on at Perry's Bend--that was
a matter which concerned only the ranches near that town--as long as no
vexatious happenings sifted too far south. But they had so sifted, and
Perry's Bend, or rather the undesirable class hanging out there, was due
to receive a shock before long.

About a week after the finding of the first skinned cows, Pete Wilson
tornadoed up to the bunk house with a perforated arm. Pete was on foot,
having lost his horse at the first exchange of shots, which accounts
for the expression describing his arrival. Pete hated to walk, he hated
still more to get shot, and most of all he hated to have to admit that
his rifle-shooting was so far below par. He had seen the thief at work
and, too eager to work up close to the cattle skinner before announcing
his displeasure, had missed the first shot. When he dragged himself out
from under his deceased horse the scenery was undisturbed save for a
small cloud of dust hovering over a distant rise to the north of him.
After delivering a short and bitter monologue he struck out for
the ranch and arrived in a very hot and wrathful condition. It was
contagious, that condition, and before long the entire outfit was in
the saddle and pounding north, Pete overjoyed because his wound was so
slight as not to bar him from the chase. The shock was on the way,
and as events proved, was to be one long to linger in the minds of the
inhabitants of Perry's Bend and the surrounding range.

The patrons of the Oasis liked their tobacco strong. The pungent smoke
drifted in sluggish clouds along the low, black ceiling, following its
upward slant toward the east wall and away from the high bar at the
other end. This bar, rough and strong, ran from the north wall to within
a scant two feet of the south wall, the opening bridged by a hinged
board which served as an extension to the counter. Behind the bar was
a rear door, low and double, the upper part barred securely--the lower
part was used most. In front of and near the bar was a large round
table, at which four men played cards silently, while two smaller tables
were located along the north wall. Besides dilapidated chairs there were
half a dozen low wooden boxes partly filled with sand, and attention
was directed to the existence and purpose of these by a roughly lettered
sign on the wall, reading: "Gents will look for a box first," which the
"gents" sometimes did. The major