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“They ain't goin' no farther.”

“W-what?” Pink stopped short and eyed him critically. Eagle Creek could not justly be called a teetotaler; but Pink had never known him to get worse than a bit wobbly in his legs; his mind had never fogged perceptibly. Still, something was wrong with him, that was certain. Pink glanced dubiously across at the Silent One and saw him shrug his shoulders expressively.

Eagle Creek rode up and stopped within ten feet of the line-backed cow; she seemed hurt at being held up in this manner, Pink thought.

“Yuh'll have t' turn this herd back,” Eagle Creek announced bluntly.

“Where to?” Pink asked, too stunned to take in the meaning of it.

“T' hell, I guess. It's the only place I know of where everybody's welcome.” Eagle Creek's tone was not pleasant.

“We just came from there,” Pink said simply, thinking of the horrors of that drive.

“Where's Wooden Shoes?” snapped the old man; and the foreman's hat-crown appeared at that instant over the ridge.

“Well, we're up against it,” Eagle Creek greeted. “That damn' agent—or the fellow he had workin' for him—reported his renting us pasture. Made the report read about twice as many as we're puttin' on. He's got orders now t' turn out every hoof but what b'longs there.”

“My Lord!” Wooden Shoes gasped at the catastrophe which faced the Cross L.

“That's Harry Conroy's work,” Pink cut in sharply' “He'd hurt the Cross L if he could, t' spite me and Rowdy. He—”

“Don't matter—seein' it's done. Yuh might as well turn the herd loose right here, an' let 'em go t' the devil. I don't know what else t' do with 'em.”

“Anything gone wrong?” It was Rowdy, who had left his place and ridden forward to see what was holding the herd back.

“Naw. We're fired off the reservation, is all. We got orders to take the herd to hell. Eagle Creek's leased it. Mr. Satan is going to keep house here in Montana; he says it's better for his trade,” Pink informed him, in his girlish treble.

Eagle Creek turned on him fiercely, then thought better of it and grinned. “Them arrangements wouldn't make us any worse off'n what we are,” he commented. “Turn 'em loose, boys.”

“Man, if yuh turn 'em loose here, the first storm that hits 'em, they all die,” Wooden Shoes interposed excitedly. “They ain't nothings for 'em. We had t' turn 'em into the Rockin' R field last night, t' git water an' feed. Red Willow's gone dry outside dat field. They ain't—nothings. They'll die!”

Eagle Creek looked at him dully. For the first time in his life he faced utter ruin. “Damn 'em, let 'em die, then!” he said.

“That's what they'll sure do,” Wooden Shoes reiterated stubbornly. “If they don't git feed and water now, yuh needn't start no round-up next spring.”

Pink's eyes went down over the close-huddled backs and the thicket of polished horns, and his eyelids stung. Would all of them die, he wondered! Four thousand! He hoped not. There must be some way out. Down the hill, he knew the cowboys were making cigarettes while they waited and wondered mightily what it was all about If they only knew, he thought, there would be more than one rope ready for Harry Conroy.

“How about the Peck reservation? Couldn't you get them on there?” Rowdy ventured.

“Not a hoof!” growled Eagle Creek, with his chin sunk against his chest. “There's thirty thousand Valley County cattle on there now.” He looked down at the cattle, as Pink had done. “God! It's bad enough t' go broke,” he groaned; “but t' think uh them poor brutes dyin' off in bunches, for want uh grass an' water! I've run that brand fer over thirty year.”





CHAPTER 11. Rowdy Promoted.

Rowdy rode closer. “If you don't mind paying duty,” he began tentatively, “I can put you next to a range over the line, where I'll guarantee feed and water the year round for every hoof you own.”

Eagle Creek lifted his head and looked at him “Whereabouts?” he demanded skeptically.

“Up in the Red Deer country. Pink knows the place. There's range a-plenty, and creeks running through that never go dry; and the country isn't stocked and fenced to death, like this is.”

“And would we be ordered off soon as we got there?”

“Sure not—if you paid duty, which would only be about double what you were going to pay for one year's pasture.”

Eagle Creek breathed deeply, like a man who has narrowly escaped suffocation. “Young man, I b'lieve you're a square dealer, and that yuh savvy the cow business. I've thought it ever since yuh started t' work.” His keen old eyes twinkled at the memory of Rowdy's arrival, and Rowdy grinned. “I take yuh at your word, and yuh can consider yourself in charge uh this herd as it stands. Take it t' that cow heaven yuh tell about—and damn it, yuh won't be none the worse for it!”

“We'll pass that up,” said Rowdy quietly. “I'll take the herd through, though; and I'd advise you to get the rest on the road as soon as they can be gathered. It's a three-hundred-mile drive.”

“All right. From now on it's up to you,” Eagle Creek told him briskly. “Take 'em back t' the Rockin' R field, and I'll send the wagons back t' you. Old Mullen'll likely make a roar—but that's most all gove'ment land he's got fenced, so I guess I can calm him down. Will yuh go near the ranch?”

“I think so,” said Rowdy. “It will be the shortest way.”

“Well, I'll give yuh some blank checks, an' you can load up with grub and anything else yuh need. I'll be over there by the time you are, and fix up that duty business. Wooden Shoes'll have t' get another outfit together, and get another bunch on the trail. One good thing—I got thirty days t' get off what cattle is on there; and thirty days uh grass and water'll put 'em in good shape for the trip. Wish this bunch was as well fixed.”

“That's what,” Rowdy assented. “But I think they'll make it, all right.”

“I'll likely want yuh to stay up there and keep cases on 'em. Any objections?”

“Sure not!” laughed Rowdy. “Only I'll want Pink and the Silent One to stay with me.”

“Keep what men yuh want. Anything else?”

“I don't think of anything,” said Rowdy. “Only I'd like to have a—talk—with Conroy.” Creek eyed him sharply. “Yuh won't be apt t' meet him. Old Bill Brown, up home, would like to see him, too. Bill's a perseverin' old cuss, and wants to see Conroy so

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