that's all the business you have, you
can go straight back where you came from."

The stranger strode toward the cow, Sylvane did likewise. They reached
the rope at the same moment. There was a shout from the delighted
audience of cowpunchers.

The stranger released his hold on the rope. "If you say I can't take
her, I can't take her," the man grumbled. "There's too many of you.
But I'll bring back men that can."

"Well, turn yourself loose," remarked Sylvane agreeably. "You'll need
a lot of them."

There was another shout from the onlookers, and the stranger departed.
Sylvane threw the papers into the mess-wagon.

Roosevelt did not happen to be present, and in his absence the sober
counsel of "Deacon" Cummins made itself heard. The gist of it was that
Sylvane had resisted an officer of the law, which was a criminal
offense.

Sylvane, who was afraid of nothing that walked on two legs or on four,
had a wholesome respect for that vague and ominous thing known as the
Law.

"Say, I don't want to get in bad with any sheriff," he said, really
worried. "What had I oughter do?"

The "Deacon," who possibly rejoiced at being for once taken seriously,
suggested that Sylvane ride to Gladstone and see if he could not
straighten the matter out. The other cowpunchers, whose acquaintance
with legal procedure was as vague as Sylvane's, agreed that that plan
sounded reasonable. Sylvane went, accompanied by the "Deacon" and
another cowboy. If there was a gleam of wicked triumph in the
stranger's eye when Sylvane rode up to him, Sylvane failed to notice
it. Before a justice of the peace he agreed to appear in court on a
certain date, and his two companions furnished a bond.

Next day, while they were in camp on the Heart River, an acquaintance
of Sylvane's, a lawyer who rejoiced in the harmonious name of Western
Starr, rode in from Dickinson to have dinner with "the boys." Sylvane
showed him the papers the stranger had deposited at his feet.

The lawyer glanced over them. "What are these?" he asked.

"I don't know," answered Sylvane lightly. "That's what I handed them
to you for, to find out."

"Why," exclaimed Starr, "these aren't anything. They haven't been
signed by anybody."

Sylvane's jaw dropped. "Say, how about my bond?"

"Oh, that's valid, even if these are not. You've got to appear in
court."

Sylvane's feelings concerning the "Deacon" and his precious advice
were deep and earnest. The situation was serious.