at a fellow had to be pretty
quick on the draw," said one.

"The Service had a good enough man for that, all right," suggested
another member of the same group, "there wasn't any of them who could
pull a bead quicker than our grazing Chief yonder." Wilbur turned and
saw crossing the room a quiet-looking, spare man, light-complexioned,
and apparently entirely inoffensive. "I guess they were ready enough to
give him a wide berth when it came to gun-play."

"Talking about the cattle war," said the first speaker, "the worst
trouble I ever had, or rather, the one that I hated to go into most, was
back in those days. I was on the old Plum Creek Timber Land Reserve,
now a portion of the Pike National Forest. A timber trespass sometimes
leads to a very pretty scrap, and a cattle mix-up usually spells 'War'
with a capital 'W,' but this had both."

"You get them that way sometimes," said a middle-aged, red-headed man,
who was standing by.

"Had some down your way, too, I reckon?"

"Plenty of 'em. But go ahead with the yarn."

"Well, this bunch that I'm speaking of had skipped out from Montana;
they were 'wanted' there, and they had come down and started cutting
railroad ties in a secluded canyon forming one of the branches of West
Plum Creek. They were hated good and plenty, these same tie-cutters,
because they had a reputation of being too handy with their guns, and
consequently causing a decrease in the calf crop. The cattlemen used to
drop in on them every once in a while, but the tie-cutters were foxy,
and they were never caught with the goods. Of course, there was a moral
certainty that they weren't buying meat, but nothing could be proved
against them, and the interchanges of compliments, while lively and
picturesque enough, never took the form of lead, although it was
expected every time they met."

"Had this been going on long?"

"Several months, I reckon," answered the former Ranger, "before I heard
of it. This was just before that section of the country was taken over
by the Forest Service. As soon as notice was given that the district in
question was to be placed under government regulations, a deputation to
the tie-cutters loped down on their cow-ponies to convey the cheerful
news. Expressing, of course, the profoundest sympathy for them, the
spokesman of the cattle group volunteered the information that they
could wrap up their axes in tissue paper, tie pink ribbons on their
rifles and go home, because any