sed his hat to the girl. "Yes," he said. "Mr.
Muller?"

"Ja," said the other man. "Also der fraeulein Muller."

There was a little ironical laughter from the crowd. "A Dutchman," said
somebody, "from Chicago. They raise them there in the sausage machine. The
hogs go in at one end, and they rake the Dutchmen out of the other."

Muller looked round inquiringly, but apparently failed to discover the
speaker.

"Dot," he said, "is der chestnut. I him have heard before."

There was good-humoured laughter--for even when it has an animus an
American crowd is usually fair; and in the meanwhile five or six other men
got down from a car. They were lean and brown, with somewhat grim faces,
and were dressed in blue shirts and jean.

"Well," said one of them, "we're Americans. Got any objections to us
getting off here, boys?"

Some of the men in store clothing nodded a greeting, but there were others
in wide hats, and long boots with spurs, who jeered.

"Brought your plough-cows along?" said one, and the taunt had its meaning,
for it is usually only the indigent and incapable who plough with oxen.

"No," said one of the newcomers. "We have horses back yonder. When we want
mules or cowsteerers, I guess we'll find them here. You seem to have quite
a few of them around."

A man stepped forward, jingling his spurs, with his jacket of embroidered
deerskin flung open to show, though this was as yet unusual, that he wore
a bandolier. Rolling back one loose sleeve he displayed a brown arm with
the letters "C. R." tattooed within a garter upon it. "See this. You've
heard of that mark before?" he said.

"Cash required!" said the newcomer, with a grin. "Well, I guess that's not
astonishing. It would be a blame foolish man who gave you credit."

"No, sir," said the stockrider. "It's Cedar Range, and there's twenty boys
and more cattle than you could count in a long day carrying that brand. It
will be a cold day when you and the rest of the Dakotas start kicking
against that outfit."

There was laughter and acclamation, in the midst of which the cars rolled
on; but in the meanwhile Grant had seized the opportunity to get a
gang-plough previously unloaded from a freight-car into a wagon. The sight
of it raised a demonstration, and there were hoots, and cries of
approbation, while a man with a flushed face was hoisted to the top of a
kerosene-barrel.

"Boys," he said, "there's no use howling. We're Americans. Nobody can stop
us, an