rection indicated. As he passed the last
of the flock in that direction, he caught sight of another herder and
two more dogs. This seemed to be a bearded man of better appearance than
the boy; but he too leaned motionless on his long staff; he too gazed
unblinking on the nibbling, restless, changing, imbecile sheep.

As Bob looked, this man uttered a shrill, long-drawn whistle. Like
arrows from bows the two dogs darted away, their ears flat, their bodies
held low to the ground. The whistle was repeated by the youth.
Immediately his dogs also glided forward. The noise of quick, sharp
barkings was heard. At once the slow, shifting movement of the masses of
gray ceased. The sound of murmurous, deep-toned bells, of bleating, of
the movement of a multitude arose. The flock drew to a common centre; it
flowed slowly forward. Here and there the dark bodies of the dogs
darted, eager and intelligently busy. The two herders followed after,
leaning on their long staffs. Over the hill passed the flock. Slowly the
sounds of them merged into a murmur. It died. Only remained the fog of
dust drifting through the trees, caught up by every passing current of
air, light and impalpable as powder.

Bob continued on his way, but had not proceeded more than a few hundred
feet before he was overtaken by Lejeune.

"You're the man I was looking for," said Bob. "I see you got your sheep
in all right. Have any trouble?"

The sheepman's teeth flashed.

"Not'tall," he replied. "I snik in ver' easy up by Beeg Rock."

At the mill, Bob, while luxuriously splashing the ice cold water on his
face and throat, took time to call to Welton in the next room.

"Saw your sheep man," he proffered. "He got in all right, sheep and
all."

Welton appeared in the doorway, mopping his round, red face with a
towel.

"Funny we haven't heard from Plant, then," said he. "That fat man must
be keeping track of Leejune's where-abouts, or he's easier than I
thought he was."

VIII

The week slipped by. Welton seemed to be completely immersed in the
business of cutting lumber. In due time Orde senior had replied by wire,
giving assurance that he would see to the matter of the crossing
permits.

"So _that's_ settled," quoth Welton. "You bet-you Jack Orde will make
the red tape fly. It'll take a couple of weeks, I suppose--time for
the mail to get there and back. Meantime, we'll get a cut ahead."

But at the end of ten days came a letter from the congressm