The horses had drifted too far off to be visible, but it was certain they were within signal distance.  Rocks, stunted undergrowth, bushes, and the rich, luxuriant grass met the eye everywhere.  Thousands of cattle were scattered over an area of many acres, and, unless molested by dishonest persons, would be within ready reach when the time for the round-up arrived.  Neither eye nor ear could detect anything of the peril which the rancher believed impended with the same faith that he believed the sun would rise on the following morning.

That faith could not be shaken by the profound quiet.  Without speaking again to his friend he strolled toward the north, that is parallel with the spur along whose slope the cattle were grazing.  As he moved forward they were continually in sight.  Most of them were lying on the ground, but a few were on their feet, browsing and acquiring the luscious plumpness which has made that section one of the most famous grazing regions of the Union.  They paid no attention to the rancher while making his way around, among and past them.  They were too accustomed to the sight of the sturdy cattleman to be disturbed by him.

An eighth of a mile from the rock where he had left his comrade, Weber once more paused.  Nothing as yet had come to confirm that peculiar warning described, but his faith knew no weakening on that account.

From a long way came the sound of rifle-firing, sometimes rapid, and sometimes consisting of dropping shots.

“They’re at it somewhere,” muttered the rancher; “it doesn’t come from the ranch, so I guess the folks are all right.”

The reports were too far off for him to feel any interest in them; that which was foretold by the twitching of his limb must come much closer to answer the demands of the occasion.

Weber resumed his walk around and among the prostrate animals.  He was on the alert, glancing to the right and left, and speculating as to the nature of the “trouble” that could not be far off.

Through the impressive stillness he caught a subdued sound which caused him again to stop in his walk and listen.  His keen vision could discover nothing, nor was he certain of the nature of the disturbance.

He knelt down and pressed his ear to the ground.  That told the story; several hundred of the herd were in motion and moving away from him.  They would not do this of their own accord, and the rancher translated its meaning at once; they were being driven off.

He broke into a loping trot toward the threatened point, holding his Winchester ready for instant use.  As he was likely to need his horse, he placed his fingers between his lips and emitted the whistle by which he was accustomed to summon the faithful beast.  Then he sent out a different call.  That was for the listening ears of Budd Hankinson, who would be sure to hasten to his comrade.

But Weber did not wait for man or animal.  They could come as fast as they chose.  The case was too urgent to admit of delay.