ansley's outfit was at a standstill.

Drazk employed his limited but expressive vocabulary. It was against
all human nature to look on such a scene unmoved. He recalled Y.D.'s
half-spoken wish about a random cigar. Then suddenly George Drazk's
mouth dropped open and his eyes rounded with a great idea.

Of course, it was against all the rules of the range--it was outlaw
business--but what about driving iron stakes in a hay meadow? Drazk's
philosophy was that the end justifies the means. And if the end would
win the approval of Y.D.--and of Y.D.'s daughter--then any means was
justified. Had not Linder said, "Burn the grass on the road?" Drazk
knew well enough that Linder's remark was a figure of speech, but
his eccentric mind found no trouble in converting it into literal
instructions.

Drazk sniffed the air and looked at the sun. A soft breeze was moving
slowly up the valley; the sun was just past noon. There was every reason
to expect that as the lowland prairies grew hot with the afternoon
sunshine a breeze would come down out of the mountains to occupy the
area of great atmospheric expansion. Drazk knew nothing about the theory
of the thing; all that concerned him was the fact that by mid-afternoon
the wind would probably change to the west.

Two miles down the valley he found a gully which gave access to the
water's edge. He descended, located a ford, and crossed. There were
cattle-trails through the cottonwoods; he might have followed them, but
he feared the telltale shoe-prints. He elected the more difficult route
down the stream itself. The South Y.D. ran mostly on a wide gravel
bottom; it was possible to pick out a course which kept Pete in water
seldom higher than his knees. An hour of this, and Drazk, peering
through the trees, could see the nearest of Landson's stacks not half
a mile away. The Landson gang were working farther down the valley, and
the stack itself covered approach from the river.

Drazk slipped from the saddle, and stole quietly into the open. The
breeze was now coming down the valley.

CHAPTER VI

Transley's men had repaired such machines as they could and returned to
work. The clatter of mowing machines filled the valley; the horses were
speeded up to recover lost time. Transley and Y.D. rode about, carefully
scrutinizing the short grass for iron stakes, and keeping a general eye
on operations.

Suddenly Transley sat bolt-still on his horse. Then, in a low voice,

"Y.D!" he