"Eat hearty," they would sometimes banter one another. "We got to
buckle down and _work_ this afternoon. They's three calves milling
around out there waiting to be branded!"

"Aw, come off! There ain't but two," another would bellow.

If it were not quite as bad as that, it was in all conscience bad
enough, and when they swung up to the reservation line and found there
a fence in the making, and saw the Indian cowboys at work throwing out
all but reservation stock, Billy mentally threw up his hands and left
the outfit in Jim Bleeker's charge while he rode home to consult Dill.
For Billy Boyle, knowing well his range-lore, could see nothing before
the Double-Crank but black failure.

"It begins to look, Dilly," he began, "as though I've stuck yuh on
this game. Yuh staked the wrong player; yuh should uh backed the man
that stacked the deck on me. There's hell to pay on the range, Dilly.
Last winter sure put a crimp in the range-stuff--_that's_ what I come
to tell yuh. I knew it would cut into the bunch. I could tell by the
way things was going close around here--but I didn't look for it to
be as bad as it is. And they're fencing in the reservation this
spring--that cuts off a big chunk uh mighty good grazing and winter
shelter along all them creeks. And I see there's quite a bunch uh
grangers come in, since I was along east uh here. They've got cattle
turned on the range, and there's half a dozen shacks scattered--"

"Mr. Brown is selling off tracts of land with water-rights--under that
big ditch, you understand. He's working a sort of colonization scheme,
as near as I can find out. He is also fencing more land to the north
and west--toward Hardup, in fact. I believe they already have most of
the posts set. We'll soon be surrounded, William. And while we're upon
the subject of our calamities, I might state that we shall not be able
to do any irrigating this season. Mr. Brown is running his ditch half
full and has been for some little time. He kindly leaves enough for
our stock to drink, however!"

"Charitable old cuss--that same Brown! I was figuring on the hay to
kinda ease through next winter. Do yuh know, Dilly, the range is just
going t' be a death-trap, with all them damn fences for the stock to
drift into. Another winter half as bad as the last one was will sure
put the finishing touches to the Double-Crank--unless we get busy and
_do_ something." Billy, his face worn and his eyes holding that tired
look whi