way into the
last car when Kate rode up. She looked with pride at the mass of broad
woolly backs as she sat with her arms folded on the saddle horn and
thought to herself that if there were any better range sheep going into
Omaha she would like to see them. She had made no mistake when she had
graded up her herds with Rambouillets.

Bowers saw her and left the chute.

"Teeters is sick," he announced, coming up.

Kate's face grew troubled. She and Teeters had shipped together ever
since they had had anything to ship, for it had been mutually
advantageous in many ways; but particularly to herself, since he looked
after her interests and saved her the necessity of making the trip to
the market herself.

"Somethin' he's et," Bowers vouchsafed. "The doctor says it's pantomime
pizenin', or some sech name--anyhow, he's plenty sick."

"Where is he?"

Bowers nodded across the flat where they had been holding the sheep
while waiting for their cars.

Kate swung her horse about and galloped for the tent where Teeters lay
groaning in his blankets on the ground.

Teeters was ill indeed--a glance told her that--and there was not the
remotest chance that he would be able to leave with the train.

"I guess I'll be all right by the time they're ready to pull out," he
groaned.

Kate made her decision quickly.

"I'll go myself. You're too sick. You get to the hotel and go to bed."

Teeters protested through a paroxysm of pain:

"You can't do that, Miss Kate. It's a tedious dirty trip in the
caboose."

"I can't help it. I've too much at stake to take a chance. There's a big
storm coming and I've got to get these sheep through in good shape.
Don't worry about me and take care of yourself."

The engine whistled a preliminary warning as Kate dropped the tent flap
and swung back on her horse. Calling to Bowers to have the train held
until she returned, she galloped to the Prouty House and ran up the
stairs to her room, where she thrust her few articles in the flour sack
that she tied on the back of her saddle when it was necessary to remain
over night in town.

The last frightened sheep had been urged up the chute and the door was
closed when she threw her belongings on the platform of the caboose and
informed Bowers that she was going along. He too protested, but her mind
was made up.

"We're going to run into a storm, and if we're sidetracked I want to be
along. It's not pleasant, but it has to be done."

It was usele