the mountains--without telegraph, newspapers, and all
ordinary means of publicity--news travels so fast may not certainly be
said. The scattered lines of telephone wires help, but news outstrips
the wires. Moreover, there are no telephones in the Mission Mountains.
But on the morning that the round-up party rode into the Cache it was
known in the streets of Medicine Bend that the Tower W men had been
tracked into the north country; that some, if not all, of them were in
Williams Cache; that an ultimatum had been given, and that Whispering
Smith and Kennedy had already ridden in with their men to make it
good.

Whispering Smith, with the cowboys, took the rough country to the
left, and Kennedy and his party took the south prong of the Cache
Creek. The instructions were to make a clean sweep as the line
advanced. Behind the centre rode three men to take stock driven in
from the wings. Word that was brief but reasonable had been sent
everywhere ahead. Every man, it was promised, that could prove
property should have a chance to do so at the Door that day and the
next; but any brands that showed stolen cattle, or that had been
skinned or tampered with in any way, were to be turned over to the
Stock Association for the benefit of owners.

The very first pocket raided started a row and uncovered eighty head
of five-year-old steers bearing a mutilated Duck Bar brand. It was
like poking at rattlesnakes to undertake to clean out the grassy
retreats of the Cache, but the work was pushed on in spite of
protests, threats, and resistance. Every man that rode out openly to
make a protest was referred calmly to Rebstock, and before very long
Rebstock's cabin had more men around it than had been seen together in
the Cache for years. The impression that the whole jig was up, and
that the refugees had been sold out by their own boss, was one that no
railroad man undertook to discourage. The cowboys insisted on the
cattle, with the assurance that Rebstock could explain everything. By
noon the Cache was in an uproar. The cowboys were riding carefully,
and their guards, rifles in hand, were watching the corners. Ahead of
the slowly moving line with the growing bunch of cattle behind it,
flourished as it were rather conspicuously, fugitive riders dashed
back and forth with curses and yells across the narrow valley. If it
had been Whispering Smith's intention to raise a large-sized row it
was apparent that he had been successful. Rebstock,