“I claim her as an ‘O’ cow,” said the stranger, facing Flood.

“Well, you claim more than you’ll ever get,” replied our foreman.  “Turn her loose, boys.”

The cow was freed and turned back into the herd, but the claimant tried to argue the matter with Flood, claiming the branding iron had simply slipped, giving it the appearance of a “Q” instead of an “O” as it was intended to be.  Our foreman paid little attention to the stranger, but when his persistence became annoying checked his argument by saying,—­

“My Christian friend, there’s no use arguing this matter.  You asked to have the cow thrown, and we threw her.  You might as well try to tell me that the cow is white as to claim her in any other brand than a ‘Q.’  You may read brands as well as I do, but you’re wasting time arguing against the facts.  You’d better take your ‘Window Sash’ cattle and ride on, for you’ve cut all you’re going to cut here to-day.  But before you go, for fear I may never see you again, I’ll take this occasion to say that I think you’re common cow thieves.”

By his straight talk, our foreman stood several inches higher in our estimation as we sat our horses, grinning at the discomfiture of the trail cutters, while a dozen six-shooters slouched languidly at our hips to give emphasis to his words.

“Before going, I’ll take this occasion to say to you that you will see me again,” replied the leader, riding up and confronting Flood.  “You haven’t got near enough men to bluff me.  As to calling me a cow thief, that’s altogether too common a name to offend any one; and from what I can gather, the name wouldn’t miss you or your outfit over a thousand miles.  Now in taking my leave, I want to tell you that you’ll see me before another day passes, and what’s more, I’ll bring an outfit with me and we’ll cut your herd clean to your road brand, if for no better reasons, just to learn you not to be so insolent.”

After hanging up this threat, Flood said to him as he turned to ride away, “Well, now, my young friend, you’re bargaining for a whole lot of fun.  I notice you carry a gun and quite naturally suppose you shoot a little as occasion requires.  Suppose when you and your outfit come back, you come a-shooting, so we’ll know who you are; for I ’ll promise you there’s liable to be some powder burnt when you cut this herd.”

Amid jeers of derision from our outfit, the trail cutters drove off their three lonely “Window Sash” cattle.  We had gained the point we wanted, and now in case of any trouble, during inspection or at night, we had the river behind us to catch our herd.  We paid little attention to the threat of our disappointed callers, but several times Straw’s remarks as to the character of the residents of those hills to the westward recurred to my mind.  I was young, but knew enough, instead of asking foolish questions, to keep mum, though my eyes and ears drank in everything.  Before we had been on the trail