be almost a canyon in dimensions. It kept to the lowest
part of the valley floor and turned to run parallel with the slope.

"Blink, suppose we run a fence of cedars from the slope straight out to
the wash. Reckon that's two miles and more. Then close up any gaps
along this side of the valley. What would happen?" suggested Pan, with
bright eyes on his comrade.

Blinky spat out his cigarette, a sign of unusual emotion for him.

"You doggone wild-hoss wrangler!" he ejaculated, with starting eyes and
healthy grin. "Shore I begin to get your hunch. Honest, I never till
this heah minnit thought so damn much of your idee. You shore gotta
excuse me. A blind man could figger this deal heah.... Big corrals
hid behind the gate under us--long fence out there to the wash--close
up any holes on this side of valley--then make a humdinger of a
drive.... Cowboy, shore's you're born I'm seein' my Arizona ranch
right this minnit!"

"Reckon I'm seeing things too," agreed Pan in suppressed excitement.
"I said once before it's too good to be true. Dad wasn't loco. No
wonder he raved.... Blink, is there _any_ mistake?"

"What about?"

"The market for wild horses."

"Absolutely, no," declared Blinky vehemently. "It's new. Only started
last summer. Wiggate made money. He said so. Thet's what fetched the
Hardmans nosin' into the game. Mebbe this summer will kill the
bizness, but right now we're safe. We can sell all the hosses we can
ketch, right heah on the hoof, without breakin' or drivin'. It's only
a day's ride from Marco, less than thet over the hills the way we come.
We can sell at Marco or we can drive to the railroad. I'd say sell at
ten dollars a haid right heah an' whoop."

"I should smile," replied Pan. "It'll take us ten days or more,
working like beavers to cut and drag the cedars to build that fence.
More time if there are gaps to close along this side. Then all we've
got to do is drive the valley. One day will do it. Why, I never saw
or heard of such a trap. You can bet it will be driven only once. The
wild horses we don't catch will steer clear of this valley. But
breaking a big drove, or driving them to Marco--that'd be a job I'd
rather dodge. It'd take a month, even with a small herd."

"Hardman an' Wiggate have several outfits working, mebbe fifty riders
all told. They've been handlin' hosses. Reckon Wiggate would jump at
buyin' up a thousand haid, all he could get. He's from St. Lou