on
those work-mules, he opened up and bayed as if he had treed something.
And sure enough he had; for you know, Tom, those calico lead mules
belonged in his team last year, and he swore he'd know them in hell,
brand or no brand. When Archie announced the outfit, lock, stock,
and barrel, as belonging to Don Lovell, the old buyers turned pale as
ghosts, and the fat one took off his hat and fanned himself. That act
alone was worth the price of admission. But when we boys were appealed
to, we were innocent and likewise ignorant, claiming that we always
understood that the herd belonged to the Marshall estate, but then we
were just common hands and not supposed to know the facts in the case.
Tolleston argued one way, and we all pulled the other, so they drove
away, looking as if they hoped it wasn't true. But it was the sight of
your life to see that fat fellow fan himself as he kept repeating, 'I
thought you boys hurried too much in buying these cattle.'"

The guards changed hourly. No fire was allowed, but Parent set out all
the cold food available, and supplementing this with canned goods,
we had a midnight lunch. Dorg Seay regaled the outfit with his recent
experience, concealing nothing, and regretfully admitting that his
charge had escaped before the work was finished. A programme was
outlined for the morrow, the main feature of which was that, in case of
pursuit, we would all tell the same story. Dawn came between three and
four on those June mornings, and with the first streak of gray in the
east we divided the outfit and mounted our horses, part riding to push
the cattle off their beds and the others to round in the remuda. Before
the herd had grazed out a half-mile, we were overtaken by half the
outfit on fresh mounts, who at once took charge of the herd. When the
relieved men had secured horses, I remained behind and assisted in
harnessing in the team and gathering the saddle stock, a number of
which were missed for lack of proper light. With the wagon once started,
Levering and myself soon had the full remuda in hand and were bringing
up the rear in a long, swinging trot. Before the sun peeped over the
eastern horizon, we passed the herd and overtook the wagon, which
was bumping along over the uneven prairie. Ordering the cook to have
breakfast awaiting us beyond a divide which crossed our front, I turned
back to the herd, now strung out in regular trailing form. The halt
ahead would put us full fifteen miles no