ood near her.
"Mak' way, lads!"

The men opened a path for the bride and groom and raised a thundering
cheer as they passed.

Old Angus Craig shook his head again and said to Johnson: "Sik a luck
canna last. To strike a lode and win a braw lass a' in the day, ye may
say. Hoo-iver, he waited lang for baith."

THE COW-BOSS

_--the reckless cowboy on his watch-eyed bronco still lopes
across the grassy foot-hills--or holds his milling herd in
the high parks._

II

THE COW-BOSS

I

The post-office at Eagle River was so small that McCoy and his herders
always spoke of the official within as "the Badger," saying that he must
surely back into his den for lack of room to turn round. His presentment
at the arched loophole in his stockade was formidable. His head was
large, his brow high and seamed, his beard long and tangled, and the
look of his hazel-gray eyes remote with cold abstraction.

"He's not a man to monkey with," said McCoy when the boys complained
that the old seed had put up a sign, "NO SPITTING IN THIS OFFICE." "I'd
advise you to act accordingly. I reckon he's boss of that thing while
he's in there. He's a Populist, but he's regularly appointed by the
President, and I don't see that we're in any position to presume to spit
if he objects. No, there ain't a thing to do but get up a petition and
have him removed--and I won't agree to sign it when you do."

Eagle River was only a cattle-yard station, a shipping-point for the
mighty spread of rolling hills which make up the Bear Valley range to
the north and the Grampa to the south. Aside from the post-office, it
possessed two saloons, a store, a boarding-house or two, and a low,
brown station-house. That was all, except during the autumn, when there
was nearly always an outfit of cowboys camped about the corrals, loading
cattle or waiting for cars.

On the day when this story opens, McCoy had packed away his last steer,
and, being about to take the train for Kansas City, called his foreman
aside.

"See here, Roy, seems to me the boys are extra boozed already. It's up
to you to pull right out for the ranch."

"That's what I'm going to try to do," answered Roy. "We'll camp at the
head of Jack Rabbit to-night."

"Good idea. Get 'em out of town before dark--every mother's son of 'em.
I'll be back on Saturday."

Roy Pierce was a dependable young fellow, and honestly meant to carry
out the orders of his boss; but there w