three sheepmen ran for
the tent, but Don Mike spurred the gray in between them and their
objective, at the same time drawing his carbine.

There was no further argument. The sheepherders' effects were soon
transferred to the backs of three burros and, driving the little
animals ahead of them, the Basques moved out. Farrel and Don Nicolas
followed them to the boundaries of the ranch and shooed them out
through a break in the fence.

"Regarding that stranger who camped last night in the valley, Don
Miguel. Would it not be well to look into his case?"

Don Mike nodded. "We will ride up the valley, Pablo, as if we seek
cattle; if we find this fellow we will ask him to explain."

"That is well," the old Indian agreed, and dropped back to his
respectful position in his master's rear. As they topped the ridge
that formed the northern buttress of the San Gregorio, Pablo rode to
the left and started down the hill through a draw covered with a thick
growth of laurel, purple lilac, a few madone trees and an occasional
oak. He knew that a big, five-point buck had its habitat here and it
was Pablo's desire to jump this buck out and thus afford his master a
glimpse of the trophy that awaited him later in the year.

From the valley below a rifle cracked. Pablo slid out of his saddle
with the ease of a youth and lay flat on the ground beside the trail.
But no bullet whined up the draw or struck near him, wherefore he knew
that he was not the object of an attack; yet there was wild pounding of
his heart when the rifle spoke again and again.

The thud of hoofs smote his ear sharply, so close was he to the ground.
Slowly Pablo raised his head. Over the hog's back which separated the
draw in which Pablo lay concealed from the draw down which Don Miguel
had ridden, the gray horse came galloping--riderless--and Pablo saw the
stock of the rifle projecting from the scabbard. The runaway plunged
into the draw some fifteen yards in front of Pablo, found a cow-trail
leading down it and disappeared into the valley.

Pablo's heart swelled with agony. "It has happened!" he murmured.
"Ah, Mother of God! It has happened!"

Two more shots in rapid succession sounded from the valley. "He makes
certain of his kill," thought Pablo. After a while he addressed the
off front foot of the black mare. "I will do likewise."

He started crawling on his belly up out of the draw to the crest of the
hog's back. He had an impression, amounti