said.

The rancher turned and followed the line of Transley's vision. The
nearest of Landson's stacks was ablaze, and a great pillar of smoke was
rolling skyward. Even as they watched, the base of the fire seemed to
spread; then, in a moment, tongues of flame were seen leaping from a
stack farther on.

"Looks like your prayers were answered, Y.D.," said Transley. "I bet
they haven't a plow nearer than the ranch."

Y.D. seemed fascinated by the sight. He could not take his eyes off
it. He drew a cigar from his pocket and thrust it far into his mouth,
chewing it savagely and rolling it in his lips, but, according to the
law of the hayfield, refraining from lighting it. At first there was a
gleam of vengeance in his eyes, but presently that gave way to a sort of
horror. Every honorable tradition of the range demanded that he enlist
his force against the common enemy.

"Hell, Transley!" he ejaculated, "we can't sit and look at that! Order
the men out! What have we got to fight with?"

For answer Transley swung round in his saddle and struck his palm into
Y.D.'s.

"Good boy, Y.D!" he said. "I did you an injustice--I mean, about your
prayers being answered. We haven't as much as a plow, either, but we can
gallop down with some barrels in a wagon and put a sack brigade to
work. I'm afraid it won't save Landson's hay, but it will show where our
hearts are."

Transley and Y.D. galloped off to round up the men, some of whom had
already noticed the fire. Transley despatched four men and two teams
to take barrels, sacks, and horse blankets to the Landson meadows. The
others he sent off at once on horseback to give what help they could.

Zen rode up just as they left, and already her fine horse seemed to
realize the tension in the air. His keen, hard-strung muscles quivered
as she brought his gallop to a stop.

"How did it start, Dad?" she demanded.

"How do I know?" he returned, shortly. "D'ye think I fired it?"

"No, but I just asked the question that Landson will ask, so you better
have your answer handy. I'm going to gallop down to their ranch; perhaps
I can help Mrs. Landson."

"The ranch buildings are safe enough, I think," said Transley. "The
grass there is close cropped, and there is some plowing."

For a moment the three sat, watching the spread of the flames. By this
time the whole lower valley was blanketed in smoke. Clouds of blue and
mauve and creamy yellow rolled from the meadows and stacks. The fire wa