Dell accompanied the trail boss to meet his
herd. It was a short hour's ride, and on sighting the cattle, then
nearing the crossing, they gave rein to their horses and rode for the
rear of the long column, where, in the rear-guard of the trailing
cattle, naturally the sore and tender-footed animals were to be found.
The drag men knew them to a hoof, were delighted to hear that all
cripples were to be dropped, and half a dozen were cut off and started
up the Beaver. "Nurse them to the nearest water," said Straw to the drag
men, "and then push them up the creek until I overtake you. Here's where
we drop our strays and cripples. What? No, I'm only endowing a trail
hospital."

The herd numbered thirty-one hundred two-year-old steers. They filled
the channel of the Beaver for a mile around the crossing, crowding into
the deeper pools, and thrashing up and down the creek in slaking their
thirst. Dell had never seen so many cattle, almost as uniform in size as
that many marbles, and the ease with which a few men handled the herd
became a nine-day wonder to the astonished boy. And when the word passed
around to cut all strays up the creek, the facility with which the men
culled out the alien down to one class and road brand, proved them
masters in the craft. It seemed as easily done as selecting a knife
from among the other trinkets in a boy's pocket.

After a change of mounts for the foreman, Dell and the trail boss
drifted the strays up the creek. The latter had counted and classed them
as cut out of the herd, and when thrown together with the cripples, the
promised little passel numbered thirty-five cattle, not counting three
calves. Straw excused his men, promising to overtake them the next
morning, and man and boy drifted the nucleus of a future ranch toward
the homestead.

"Barring that white cow and the red one with the speckled calf," said
Straw to Dell, pointing out each, "you're entitled to pick one for
yourself. Now, I'm not going to hurry you in making your choice. Any
time before we sight the tent and shack, you are to pick one for your
own dear cow, and stand by your choice, good or bad. Remember, it
carries my compliments to you, as one of the founders of the first
hospital on the Texas and Montana cattle trail."

Two miles below the homestead, the half-dozen cripples were dropped to
the rear. "You can come back to-morrow morning and get these tender
steers," said the foreman, "and drift them up above the im