creek, like a sentinel, stood a
lone willow which seemed to say, "Thus far shalt thou go and no
farther." The extra horses, now in the pink of condition, were brought
home and located below the ranch, and the house stood in order.

The arrival of the first herd had been correctly calculated. The
brothers rode out late on the morning designated, but did not reach the
divide. The foremost herd was met within seven miles of the Beaver, the
leaders coming on with the steady stride of thirsty cattle that had
scented water. Priest was nowhere in sight, but the heavy beeves
identified the herd, and when the boys hailed a point man, the
situation cleared.

"Mr. Paul--our boss?" repeated the point man. "He's setting up a
guide-board, back on the divide, where we turned off from the old
trail. Say, does this dim wagon track we're following lead to Wells
Brothers' ranch?"

"It does," answered Joel. "You can see the willows from the next swell
of the prairie," added Dell, as the brothers passed on.

It was a select herd of heavy beeves. In spite of the drouth
encountered, the cattle were in fine condition, and as the herd snailed
forward at its steady march, the sweep of horn, the variety of color,
the neat outline of each animal blended into a pastoral picture of
strength and beauty.

The boys rode down the advancing column. A swing man on the opposite
side of the herd waved his hand across to the brothers, and while the
two were speculating as to who he might be, a swing lad on the left
reined out and saluted the boys.

With hand extended, he smilingly inquired, "Don't you remember the day
we branded your cattle? How did the Two Bars and the ---- Y
cows winter?"

"It's Billy Honeyman," said Dell, beaming. "Who is that man across the
herd, waving at us?" he inquired, amid hearty greeting.

"That's Runt Pickett, the little fellow who helped us brand--the lad who
rushed the cattle. The herd cuts him off from shaking hands. Turn your
horses the other way and tell me how you like it out West."

Dell turned back, but Joel continued on. The column of beeves was fully
a mile in length. After passing the drag end of the herd, the wagon and
remuda were sighted, later met, with the foreman still at the rear. The
dust cloud of yet another herd arose in the distance, and while Joel
pondered on its location over the divide, a horseman emerged from a dip
in the plain and came toward him in a slow gallop.

"There's no foreman with