“You mean immigrants?” queried Lorry.

“The same.  The gate is open too wide.  If I had the handlin’ of them gates I would shut ’em for ten years and kind of let what we got settle down and get acquainted.  But the man hirin’ cheap labor wouldn’t.  He’ll take anything that will work cheap, and the country pays the difference, like we done down to Sterling.”

“You mean there can’t be cheap labor?”

“The same.  Somebody’s got to pay.”

“Well, Sterling paid,” said Lorry, “if a man’s life is worth anything.”

“Yes, she paid.  And the worst part of the whole business is that the men what paid didn’t owe anything to the smelter or to them others.  They just made a present of their lives to this here country.  And the country ain’t goin’ to even say ‘thanks.’”

“You’re pretty sore about it, aren’t you, Bud?”

“I be.  And if you had my years you’d be likewise.  But what’s worryin’ me right now is I’m wonderin’ what your maw’ll say to me when she finds out.”

“You can say we been south on business.”

“Yes,” grunted Bud, “and I got the receipt right here on my left wing.”

“Hurtin’ you much?”

“Just enough to let me know I’m livin’ and ain’t ridin’ through hell shootin’ down a lot of pore, drunk fools that’s tryin’ to run the oven.  And them kind would kick if they was ridin’ in hell on a free pass and their hotel bills paid.  But over there is the hills, and we can thank God A’mighty for the high trails and the open country.  I ain’t got the smell of that town out of my nose yet.”

* * * * *

When they arrived at Stacey, Lorry learned that his father had recently gone to the ranch.  After supper that evening, Mrs. Adams mentioned the strike.  The papers printed columns of the awful details; outrages and killings beyond the thought of possibility.  And Mrs. Adams spoke of the curious circumstance that the men who put down the lawlessness were unnamed; that all that could be learned of them was that there were ranchers and cowmen who were known by number alone.

“And I’m glad that you didn’t go riding off down there,” she said to Lorry.  “The paper says men from all over the State volunteered.”

“So am I,” said Shoop promptly.  “I was readin’ about that strike when we was over to The Junction.  Lorry and me been over that way on business.  I seen that that young fella, number thirty-eight, was one of the men who went after that machine gun.”

“How do you know that he was a young man?” queried Mrs. Adams.

“Why—­er—­only a young fella would act that foolish, I reckon.  You say Jim is feelin’ spry ag’in?”

“Oh, much better!  He’s lame yet.  But he can ride.”

“That’s good.”

“And did you see that the paper says men are volunteering to go to France?  I wonder what will happen next?”

“I dunno,” said Shoop gravely.  “I been thinkin’ about that.”