But before noon of that day a new complication arose. Up the road came a
short, hairy man on a mule. His beard grew to his high cheek bones, his
eyebrows bristled and jutted out over his black eyes, and a thick shock
of hair pushed beneath the rim of his hat to meet the eyebrows. The hat
was an old black slouch, misshapen, stained and dusty. His faded shirt
opened to display a hairy throat and chest. As for the rest he was
short-limbed, thick and powerful.

This nondescript individual rode up to the verandah on which sat Welton
and Bob, awaiting the lunch bell. He bowed gravely, and dismounted.

"Dis ees Meestair Welton?" he inquired with a courtesy at strange
variance with his uncouth appearance.

Welton nodded.

"I am Peter Lejeune," said the newcomer, announcing one of those hybrid
names so common among the transplanted French and Basques of California.
"I have de ship."

"Oh, yes," said Welton rising and going forward to offer his hand. "Come
up and sit down, Mr. Leejune."

The hairy man "tied his mule to the ground" by dropping the end of the
reins, and mounted the two steps to the verandah.

"This is my assistant, Mr. Orde," said Welton. "How are the sheep coming
on? Mr. Leejune," he told Bob, "rents the grazing in our timber."

"Et is not coming," stated Lejeune with a studied calm. "Plant he
riffuse permit to cross."

"Permit to what?" asked Welton.

"To cross hees fores', gov'ment fores'. I can' get in here widout cross
gov'ment land. I got to get permit from Plant. Plant he riffuse."

Welton rose, staring at his visitor.

"Do you mean to tell me," he cried at last, "that a man hasn't got a
right to get into his own land? That they can keep a man out of his own
_land_?"

"Da's right," nodded the Frenchman.

"But you've been in here for ten years or so to my knowledge."

Abruptly the sheepman's calm fell from him. He became wildly excited.
His black eyes snapped, his hair bristled, he arose from his chair and
gesticulated.

"Every year I geev heem three ship! Three ship!" he repeated, thrusting
three stubby fingers at Welton's face. "Three little ship! I stay all
summer! He never say permit. Thees year he kip me out."

"Give any reason?" asked Welton.

"He say my ship feed over the line in gov'ment land."

"Did they?"

"Mebbe so, little bit. Mebbe not. Nobody show me line. Nobody pay no
'tention. I feed thees range ten year."

"Did you give him three sheep this year?"

"Sure."

We