further informed
me that north of Ford County was all an unorganized country until the
Platte River was reached at Ogalalla, and advised me to ignore any legal
process served outside those bounds. He was impatient to get away, and
when he had put me in possession of everything to our advantage, we
wrung each other's hands in farewell. As the drive outlined by the
cattle buyers would absorb the day, I felt no necessity of being in a
hurry. The absence of Dorg Seay was annoying, and the fellow had done
us such valiant service, I felt in honor bound to secure his release.
Accordingly I wired the city marshal at Kinsley, and received a reply
that Seay had been released early that morning, and had started overland
for Dodge. This was fortunate, and after settling all bills, I offered
to pay the liveryman in advance for the rig in Seay's possession,
assuring him by the telegram that it would return that evening. He
refused to make any settlement until the condition of both the animal
and the conveyance had been passed upon, and fearful lest Dorg should
come back moneyless, I had nothing to do but await his return. I was
growing impatient to reach camp, there being no opportunity to send
word to my outfit, and the passing hours seemed days, when late in the
afternoon Dorg Seay drove down the main street of Dodge as big as
a government beef buyer. The liveryman was pleased and accepted the
regular rate, and Dorg and I were soon galloping out of town. As we
neared the first divide, we dropped our horses into a walk to afford
them a breathing spell, and in reply to my fund of information, Seay
said:

"So Tolleston's telling that he licked me. Well, that's a good one on
this one of old man Seay's boys. Archie must have been crazy with the
heat. The fact is that he had been trying to quit me for several days.
We had exhausted every line of dissipation, and when I decided that it
was no longer possible to hold him, I insulted and provoked him into a
quarrel, and we were both arrested. Licked me, did he? He couldn't lick
his upper lip."

CHAPTER IX. AT SHERIFF'S CREEK

The sun had nearly set when we galloped into Bob Quirk's camp. Halting
only long enough to advise my brother of the escape of Tolleston and
his joining the common enemy, I asked him to throw any pursuit off our
trail, as I proposed breaking camp that evening. Seay and myself put
behind us the few miles between the two wagons, and dashed up to mine
just as the o