more, but here's the point. You're a young man and out
to make a stake, I suppose, like the rest of 'em. What's the use of
wasting your time and energy trying to hold that bunch of half-starved
cows together? What's the use of going into a _poor_ business, man,
when there's a _better_ business; and I'll tell you right now, the
sheep business is the coming industry of Arizona. The sheepmen are
going to own this country, from Flag to the Mexican line, and you
might as well git on the boat, boy, before it's too late."

He paused, as if waiting for his points to sink home; then he reached
out and tapped his listener confidentially on the knee.

"Hardy," he said, "I like your style. You've got a head, and you know
how to keep your mouth shut. More'n that, you don't drink. A man like
you could git to be a boss sheep-herder in six months; you could make
a small fortune in three years and never know you was workin'. You
don't need to work, boy; I kin git a hundred men to work--what I want
is a man that can _think_. Now, say, I'm goin' to need a man pretty
soon--come around and see me some time."

"All right," said Hardy, reluctantly, "but I might as well tell you
now that I'm satisfied where I am."

"Satisfied!" ripped out Swope, with an oath. "Satisfied! Why, man
alive, you're jest hanging on by your eyebrows up there at Hidden
Water! _You_ haven't got nothin'; you don't even own the house you
live in. I could go up there to-morrow and file on that land and you
couldn't do a dam' thing. Judge Ware thought he was pretty smooth when
he euchred me out of that place, but I want to tell you, boy--and you
can tell him, if you want to--that Old Man Winship never held no title
to that place, and it's public land to-day. That's all public land up
there; there ain't a foot of land in the Four Peaks country that I
can't run my sheep over if I want to, and keep within my legal rights.
So that's where you're at, Mr. Hardy, if you want to know!"

He stopped and rammed a cut of tobacco into his pipe, while Hardy
tapped his boot meditatively. "Well," he said at last, "if that's the
way things are, I'm much obliged to you for not sheeping us out this
Spring. Of course, I haven't been in the country long, and I don't
know much about these matters, but I tried to accommodate you all I
could, thinking--"

"That ain't the point," broke in Swope, smoking fiercely, "I ain't
threatening ye, and I appreciate your hospitality--but here's the
po