the most cruel exposure of the whole affair occurred when Nat
Straw, riding in ahead of his herd, overtook us one day out from
Ogalalla.

"I met old 'Says I' Littlefield," said Nat, "back at the ford of the
Republican, and he tells me that they won over five hundred dollars
off this Circle Dot outfit on a horse race. He showed me a whole
basketful of your watches. I used to meet old 'Says I' over on the
Chisholm trail, and he's a foxy old innocent. He told me that he put
tar on his harness mare's back to see if you fellows had stolen the
nag off the picket rope at night, and when he found you had, he robbed
you to a finish. He knew you fool Texans would bet your last dollar on
such a cinch. That's one of his tricks. You see the mare you tried
wasn't the one you ran the race against. I've seen them both, and they
look as much alike as two pint bottles. My, but you fellows are easy
fish!"

And then Jim Flood lay down on the grass and laughed until the tears
came into his eyes, and we understood that there were tricks in other
trades than ours.

CHAPTER XVII

OGALALLA

From the head of Stinking Water to the South Platte was a waterless
stretch of forty miles. But by watering the herd about the middle of
one forenoon, after grazing, we could get to water again the following
evening. With the exception of the meeting with Nat Straw, the drive
was featureless, but the night that Nat stayed with us, he regaled us
with his experiences, in which he was as lucky as ever. Where we had
lost three days on the Canadian with bogged cattle, he had crossed it
within fifteen minutes after reaching it. His herd was sold before
reaching Dodge, so that he lost no time there, and on reaching
Slaughter's bridge, he was only two days behind our herd. His cattle
were then en route for delivery on the Crazy Woman in Wyoming, and, as
he put it, "any herd was liable to travel faster when it had a new
owner."

Flood had heard from our employer at Culbertson, learning that he
would not meet us at Ogalalla, as his last herd was due in Dodge about
that time. My brother Bob's herd had crossed the Arkansaw a week
behind us, and was then possibly a hundred and fifty miles in our
rear.

We all regretted not being able to see old man Don, for he believed
that nothing was too good for his men, and we all remembered the good
time he had shown us in Dodge. The smoke of passing trains hung for
hours in signal clouds in our front, during the afte