rnest,
having manifestly been hit in a sore spot. "Where was me an' Guy, huh?
Wal, my Oregon brother, we was heah, all year, sleepin' more or less
aboot three hours out of every twenty-four--ridin' our boots off--an'
we couldn't keep down that loss."

"Jean, you-all have a mighty tumble comin' to you out heah," said Guy,
complacently.

"Listen, son," spoke up the rancher. "You want to have some hunches
before you figure on our troubles. There's two or three packs of
lofers, an' in winter time they are hell to deal with. Lions thick as
bees, an' shore bad when the snow's on. Bears will kill a cow now an'
then. An' whenever an' old silvertip comes mozyin' across from the
Mazatzals he kills stock. I'm in with half a dozen cattlemen. We all
work together, an' the whole outfit cain't keep these vermints down.
Then two years ago the Hash Knife Gang come into the Tonto."

"Hash Knife Gang? What a pretty name!" replied Jean. "Who're they?"

"Rustlers, son. An' shore the real old Texas brand. The old Lone Star
State got too hot for them, an' they followed the trail of a lot of
other Texans who needed a healthier climate. Some two hundred Texans
around heah, Jean, an' maybe a matter of three hundred inhabitants in
the Tonto all told, good an' bad. Reckon it's aboot half an' half."

A cheery call from the kitchen interrupted the conversation of the men.

"You come to breakfast."

During the meal the old rancher talked to Bill and Guy about the day's
order of work; and from this Jean gathered an idea of what a big cattle
business his father conducted. After breakfast Jean's brothers
manifested keen interest in the new rifles. These were unwrapped and
cleaned and taken out for testing. The three rifles were forty-four
calibre Winchesters, the kind of gun Jean had found most effective. He
tried them out first, and the shots he made were satisfactory to him
and amazing to the others. Bill had used an old Henry rifle. Guy did
not favor any particular rifle. The rancher pinned his faith to the
famous old single-shot buffalo gun, mostly called needle gun. "Wal,
reckon I'd better stick to mine. Shore you cain't teach an old dog new
tricks. But you boys may do well with the forty-fours. Pack 'em on
your saddles an' practice when you see a coyote."

Jean found it difficult to convince himself that this interest in guns
and marksmanship had any sinister propulsion back of it. His father
and brothers had always b