t this.
Now you jest see."

"Well, let's wait, then," replied Pan. "Wrap them up in tarps and lay
them here in the shade."

The trapped wild horses, cracking their hoofs and whistling in the huge
corrals, did not at the moment attract Pan or wean him away from the
deep unsettled condition of mind. As he passed the corral on the way
to the camp the horses moved with a trampling roar. The sound helped
him toward gaining a hold on his normal self.

The hour now was near sunset and the heat of day had passed. A cool
light breeze made soft low sound in the trees.

Pan found his father sitting with bandaged head beside the campfire,
apparently recovering somewhat.

"Did you take a peep at our hosses?" he asked.

"No, not yet," replied Pan. "I reckon I will, though, before it gets
dark."

"We've got a big job ahead."

"That depends, Dad. If we can sell them here we haven't any job to
speak of. How about it, Blink?"

"How aboot what?" inquired the cowboy, who had just come up.

"Dad's worrying over what he thinks will be a big job. Handling the
horses we've caught."

"Shore thet all depends. If we sell heah, fine an' dandy. The other
fellar will have the hell. Reckon, though, we want to cut out a string
of the best hosses fer ourselves. Thet's work, when you've got a big
drove millin' round. Shore is lucky we built thet mile-round corral.
There's water an' feed enough to last them broomies a week, or longer
on a pinch."

While they were talking Gus and Charley Brown returned to camp. They
were leading the horses that had been ridden by Hardman and Purcell.

"Turn them loose, boys," directed Pan, to whom they looked for
instructions.

Presently Gus handed Pan a heavy leather wallet and a huge roll of
greenbacks.

"Found the wallet on Purcell an' the roll on Hardman," said Gus.

"Wal, they shore was well heeled," drawled Blinky.

"But what'll I do with all this?" queried Pan blankly.

"Pan, as you seem to forget, Hardman owed your dad money, reckon you
might rustle an' hunt up Dick Hardman an' give it to him. Say, Dick'll
own the Yellow Mine now. Gee! He could spend all this in his own
joint."

"Dad, you never told me how much Hardman did you out of," Pan.

"Ten thousand in cash, an' Lord only knows how many cattle."

"So much! I'd imagined.... Say, Dad, will you take this money?"

"Yes, if it's honest an' regular for me to do so," replied Smith
stoutly.

"Regular? There's no la