stern mountain side, snorting at the clangor and the rank smell of
the sheep, and Creede eyed them with professional interest as the
leaders trotted past. Many times in the old days he had followed along
those same ridges, rounding up the wild horses and sending them
dashing down the canyon, so that Hardy could rush out from his hiding
place and make his throw. It was a natural hold-up ground, that
_redondo_, and they had often talked of building a horse trap there;
but so far they had done no more than rope a chance horse and let the
rest go charging down the box canyon and out the other end onto Bronco
Mesa.

It was still early in the morning when Juan Alvarez rode down the pass
and invaded the forbidden land. He had the name of a bad _hombre_,
this boss herder of Jasper Swope, the kind that cuts notches on his
rifle stock. Only one man had ever made Juan eat dirt, and that man
now watched him from the high rocks with eyes that followed every move
with the unblinking intentness of a mountain lion.

"Uhr-r! Laugh, you son of a goat," growled Creede, as the big Mexican
pulled up his horse and placed one hand complacently on his hip.
"Sure, make yourself at home," he muttered, smiling as his enemy
drifted his sheep confidently down into the _redondo_, "you're goin'
jest where I want ye. Come sundown and we'll go through you like a
house afire. If he beds in the _redondo_ let's shoot 'em into that box
canyon, Jim," proposed the big cowman, turning to his partner, "and
when they come out the other end all hell wouldn't stop 'em--they'll
go forty ways for Sunday."

"Suits me," replied Jim, "but say, what's the matter with roundin' up
some of them horses and sendin' 'em in ahead? That boss Mexican is
goin' to take a shot at some of us fellers if we do the work
ourselves."

"That's right, Jim," said Creede, squinting shrewdly at the three
armed herders. "_I'll_ tell ye, let's send them wild horses through
'em! Holy smoke! jest think of a hundred head of them outlaws comin'
down the canyon at sundown and hammerin' through that bunch of sheep!
And we don't need to git within gunshot!"

"Fine and dandy," commented Jim, "but how're you goin' to hold your
horses to it? Them herders will shoot off their guns and turn 'em
back."

"Well, what's the matter with usin' our tame horses for a hold-up herd
and then sendin' the whole bunch through together? They'll strike for
the box canyon, you can bank on that, and if Mr. Juan wil