hanging to it, and
rubbed his numbed fingers absently. After a minute or so, he mounted
and rode down to the corral.

Five dry cows and two steers snorted at his approach and crowded
against the farther rails. Ward gave Rattler a touch of the spurs,
rode close to the fence, and stood in his stirrups while he studied the
bunch.

"Hell!" he said, when the inspection was over, and dropped back into
the saddle while he gazed unseeingly at the canyon wall. It was a very
real hell that his mind saw; a hell made by men, wherein other men must
dwell in torment because of their sins or the sins of their fellows.

Seabeck's brand was a big V, a bad brand to own, since it favors
revision at the hands of the unscrupulous. These cattle were Seabeck
cattle, and their brand had been altered. For the right slant of the V
had been extended a little and curled into a 6, so that in time the
brand would stand casual inspection as a Y6 monogram--Ward's own brand.
The work was crude--purposefully crude. The V bad not been reburned
enough to make it look fresh, and the newly seared 6 had been added
with a malevolent pressure that would make it stand out a fresh brand
for a long time--in case of a delay in the proceedings, as Ward knew
perfectly well.

So he sat there and looked over the fence and saw himself a convicted
"rustler." There was the evidence, all ready to damn him utterly
before a jury. They would be turned loose on the range near his claim,
and they would be found before the scabs had haired over. It was a
good time for rustling; round-ups were over for the winter, and the
weather would confine range-riding to absolute necessity.

Of course, the work was coarse--so coarse as to reflect against his
intelligence; but when brands are worked over and the culprit has been
caught, the law is not too careful to give the prisoner credit for
brains.

Ward stared at the altered brands and wondered what he had best do. He
bethought him that perhaps it would be as well to put a little scenery
between himself and that particular locality, and he started back up
the hill. Once he pulled up as if he would go back, but he thought
better of it. It was out of the question to turn those cattle loose.
He could not kill them and dispose of the bodies--not when there were
seven of them. He might go down and blotch the brands so that they
would not read anything at all. He had thought of that before and
decided against it. That w