We had got a change of mounts during the breakfast hour, and when all was ready Flood and Wilson rode over to the wagon of the mixed herd, the two outfits following, when Flood inquired of their foreman,—­

“Have you any suggestions to make in the cutting of these herds?”

“No suggestions,” was the reply, “but I intend to cut mine first and cut them northward on the trail.”

“You intend to cut them northward, you mean, provided there are no objections, which I’m positive there will be,” said Flood.  “It takes me some little time to size a man up, and the more I see of you during our brief acquaintance, the more I think there’s two or three things that you might learn to your advantage.  I’ll not enumerate them now, but when these herds are separated, if you insist, it will cost you nothing but the asking for my opinion of you.  This much you can depend on:  when the cutting’s over, you’ll occupy the same position on the trail that you did before this accident happened.  Wilson, here, has nothing but jaded horses, and his outfit will hold the herd while yours and mine cut their cattle.  And instead of you cutting north, you can either cut south where you belong on the trail or sulk in your camp, your own will and pleasure to govern.  But if you are a cowman, willing to do your part, you’ll have your outfit ready to work by the time we throw the cattle together.”

Not waiting for any reply, Flood turned away, and the double outfit circled around the grazing herd and began throwing the sea of cattle into a compact body ready to work.  Rod Wheat and Ash Borrowstone were detailed to hold our cut, and the remainder of us, including Honeyman, entered the herd and began cutting.  Shortly after we had commenced the work, the mixed outfit, finding themselves in a lonesome minority, joined us and began cutting out their cattle to the westward.  When we had worked about half an hour, Flood called us out, and with the larger portion of Wilson’s men, we rode over and drifted the mixed cut around to the southward, where they belonged.  The mixed outfit pretended they meant no harm, and were politely informed that if they were sincere, they could show it more plainly.  For nearly three hours we sent a steady stream of cattle out of the main herd into our cut, while our horses dripped with sweat.  With our advantage in the start, as well as that of having the smallest herd, we finished our work first.  While the mixed outfit were finishing their cutting, we changed mounts, and then were ready to work the separated herds.  Wilson took about half his outfit, and after giving our herd a trimming, during which he recut about twenty, the mixed outfit were given a similar chance, and found about half a dozen of their brand.  These cattle of Wilson’s and the other herd amongst ours were not to be wondered at, for we cut by a liberal rule.  Often we would find a number of ours on the outside of the main herd, when two men would cut the squad in a bunch, and if there was a wrong brand amongst them, it was no matter,—­we knew our herd would have to be retrimmed anyhow, and the other outfits might be disappointed if they found none of their cattle amongst ours.