With the demand for trail cattle on the decline, coupled with two severe winters, the old firm of Hunter, Anthony & Co. was ripe for dissolution.  We had enjoyed the cream of the trade while it lasted, but conditions were changing, making it necessary to limit and restrict our business.  This was contrary to our policy, though the spring of 1886 found us on the trail with sixteen herds for the firm and four from my own ranches, one half of which were under contract.  A dry summer followed, and thousands of weak cattle were lost on the trail, while ruin and bankruptcy were the portion of a majority of the drovers.  We weathered the drouth on the trail, selling our unplaced cattle early, and before the beef-shipping season began, our range in the Outlet, including good will, holding of beeves, saddle horses, and general improvements, was sold to a Kansas City company, and the old firm passed out of existence.  Meanwhile I had closed up the affairs of the Cheyenne and Arapahoe Company, returning a small pro rata of the original investment to shareholders, charging my loss to tuition in rounding out my education as a cowman.

The productive capacity of my ranches for years past safely tided me over all financial difficulties.  With all outside connections severed, I was then enabled to give my personal attention to ranching in Texas.  I was fortunate in having capable ranch foremen, for during my almost continued absence there was a steady growth, together with thorough management of my mixed cattle.  The improved herd, now numbering over two thousand, was the pride of my operations in live stock, while my quarter and three-eighths blood steers were in a class by themselves.  We were breeding over a thousand half and three-quarters blood bulls annually, and constantly importing the best strains to the head of the improved herd.  Results were in evidence, and as long as the trail lasted, my cattle were ready sellers in the upper range markets.  For the following few years I drove my own growing of steers, usually contracting them in advance.  The days of the trail were numbered; 1889 saw the last herd leave Texas, many of the Northern States having quarantined against us, and we were afterward compelled to ship by rail in filling contracts on the upper ranges.

When Kansas quarantined against Texas cattle, Dodge was abandoned as a range market.  The trail moved West, first to Lakin and finally to Trail City, on the Colorado line.  In attempting to pass the former point with four Pan-Handle herds in the spring of 1888, I ran afoul of a quarantine convention.  The cattle were under contract in Wyoming, and it was my intention not even to halt the herds, but merely to take on supplies in passing.  But a deputation met us south of the river, notifying me that the quarantine convention was in session, and requesting me not to attempt to cross the Arkansas.  I explained that my cattle were from above the dead line in Texas, had heretofore