randing was in full swing. The three horses came and went
phlegmatically. When the nooses fell, they turned and walked toward
the fire as a matter of course. Rarely did the cast fail. Men ran to
and fro busy and intent. Sometimes three or four calves were on the
ground at once. Cries arose in a confusion: "Marker" "Hot iron!"
"Tally one!" Dust eddied and dissipated. Behind all were clear
sunlight and the organ roll of the cattle bellowing.

Toward the middle of the morning the bull-doggers began to get a little
tired.

"No more necked calves," they announced. "Catch 'em by the hind legs,
or bull-dog 'em yourself."

And that went. Once in a while the rider, lazy, or careless, or
bothered by the press of numbers, dragged up a victim caught by the
neck. The bull-doggers flatly refused to have anything to do with it.
An obvious way out would have been to flip off the loop and try again;
but of course that would have amounted to a confession of wrong.

"You fellows drive me plumb weary," remarked the rider, slowly
dismounting. "A little bit of a calf like that! What you all need is
a nigger to cut up your food for you!"

Then he would spit on his hands and go at it alone. If luck attended
his first effort, his sarcasm was profound.

"There's yore little calf," said he. "Would you like to have me tote
it to you, or do you reckon you could toddle this far with yore little
old iron?"

But if the calf gave much trouble, then all work ceased while the
unfortunate puncher wrestled it down.

Toward noon the work slacked. Unbranded calves were scarce. Sometimes
the men rode here and there for a minute or so before their eyes fell
on a pair of uncropped ears. Finally Homer rode over to the Cattleman
and reported the branding finished. The latter counted the marks in
his tally-book.

"One hundred and seventy-six," he announced.

The markers, squatted on their heels, told over the bits of ears they
had saved. The total amounted to but an hundred and seventy-five.
Everybody went to searching for the missing bit. It was not
forth-coming. Finally Wooden discovered it in his hip pocket.

"Felt her thar all the time," said he, "but thought it must shorely be
a chaw of tobacco."

This matter satisfactorily adjusted, the men all ran for their ponies.
They had been doing a wrestler's heavy work all the morning, but did
not seem to be tired. I saw once in some crank physical culture
periodical that a cowb