p was a practical cowman;
one of themselves. Naturally there was some dissatisfaction expressed by
disgruntled individuals who envied Shoop's good fortune. But this was
overwhelmed by the tide of popular acclaim with which Shoop was hailed
as a just administrator of their grazing-rights.

The barbecue was a boisterous success. Although the day of large
holdings was past, the event lacked nothing in numbers or enthusiasm.
The man who owned a hundred head of cattle was quite as popular as his
neighbor who owned perhaps eight hundred or a thousand. Outfits
fraternized, ran pony races, roped for prizes, and rode bucking horses,
as their predecessors had raced, roped, and "rode 'em" in the days of
old.

Lorry, itching to enter the roping contest, was checked by a suggestion
from the genial Bud.

"I've heard you was top-hand with a rope. But you're a ranger, by the
grace of God and me and John Torrance. Let the boy's play, but don't
play with 'em yet. Keep 'em guessin' just how good you are. Let 'em get
to know you slow--and solid."

Lorry accepted Bud's advice, and made himself popular with the various
outfits by maintaining a silence when questioned as to how he "put
High-Chin Bob out of business." The story of that affair had had a wide
circulation, and gained interest when it became known that High Chin and
his men were present. Their excuse for coming was only legitimate in
that a barbecue draws no fine lines of distinction. Any one who has a
horse and an appetite is welcome. The Starr riders were from the
northern county, but they would have been quite as welcome had they come
from Alaska.

Bud Shoop was present in a suit of religiously severe black, his pants
outside his boots. He had donned a white shirt and knotted a black silk
bandanna round his short neck.

The morning was noisy with pony races, roping contests, and the riding
of pitching horses. The events were not tabulated, but evolved through
the unwritten law of precedent.

After the noon feast there was talk of a shooting-match. Few of the
local men packed guns, and none of them openly. The Starr riders were
the only exception. This fact was commented upon by some of the
old-timers, who finally accosted Bud with the suggestion that he "show
that Starr outfit what a gun was made for." Bud declined.

"I ain't had a gun in my hand, except to clean it, since I quit
punchin'," he told them. "And, anyhow, I'm no fancy gun sharp."

"High Chin and his out