"Thar, boys," he said, "thar's the results of peace and kindness. Nary
a critter thar that I heven't scratched between the horns since the
day his maw brought him down to the salt lick. I even git Jeff and
the boys to brand and earmark 'em fer me, so they won't hev no hard
feelin' fer the Old Man. D'ye see that big white-faced steer?" he
asked, pointing with pride to the monarch of the herd. "Waal, how much
ye think he'll weigh?" he demanded, turning to Creede. "Fifteen
hundred?"

"Um, more 'n that," responded Creede, squinting his eyes down
judicially. "Them Herefords are awful solid when they git big. I
reckon he'll run nigh onto seventeen hundred, Bill." He paused and
winked furtively at Hardy. "I kin git fifty dollars fer that old boy,
jest the way he stands," he said, "and bein' as he can't carry no more
weight nohow, I'll jest cut him into the town herd right now, and--"

"Hyar!" shouted Johnson, grabbing the cowboy's bridle, "who's doin'
this, anyhow?"

"W'y _you_, Bill," answered Creede innocently, "but--"

"That's all right, then," said the old man shortly, "you leave that
steer alone. I'll jest cut this herd to suit myself."

Over at the branding pen the irons were on the fire and the marking
was progressing rapidly, but out in the open Mr. Bill Johnson was
making slow work of his cut.

"He gets stuck on them cows, like an Irishman with his pig," observed
Creede, as the old man turned back a prime four-year-old. "He'd rather
be barbecued by the Apaches than part with that big white-faced boy.
If I owned 'em I'd send down a lot of them big fat brutes and buy
doggies; but Bill spends all the money he gits fer booze anyhow, so I
reckon it's all right. He generally sends out about twenty runts and
roughs, and lets it go at that. Say! You'll have to git a move on,
Bill," he shouted, "we want to send that beef cut on ahead!"

The old man reined in his mare and surveyed the big herd critically.

"Waal," he drawled, "I reckon that'll do fer this trip, then. Take 'em
along. And the fust one of you punchers that hits one of them critters
over the tail with his hondu," he shouted, as the eager horsemen
trotted over to start them, "will hev me to lick!"

He placed an order for provisions with Creede, asked him to keep the
supplies at Hidden Water until he came over for them with the burros,
and turned away contentedly as the cowboys went upon their way.

Down by the branding pen the mother cows licked the blo