“Well, fellows,” said Charleton cheerfully, as he tipped back his chair and established his spurs beside Scott’s, “there’s a neat little job on the horizon.  You both know the big canyon beyond Lost Chief Peak, that has the little creek that disappears under the range?”

The young men nodded, and Charleton continued.

“A Mormon named Elijah Nelson has settled there.  I’m not certain of all he intends to do but I know this much:  He’s to homestead that canyon up there and hog the water rights on the creek.  He’s to be followed by nine other Mormon families.  Some of ’em are going to raise cattle in the canyon.  Some of ’em are going into the sheep business in the plains country beyond the canyon, where we Lost Creek folks have been in the habit of wintering our herd when the snow’s too deep here.  Some of us older Lost Chief men realize that these folks are the beginning of a march of Mormons up from Utah to run us Lost Chief folks out.  And we’re going to harry them till they are sick of living.  Mormons and sheep must keep out of this country.”

Douglas’ eyes burned and his breath came quickly.  Scott’s hard young eyes did not flicker.

“We’re going to ride over the range to-morrow night and the next morning gather up what we can of Nelson’s herd that’s grazing on Lost Chief.  We’ll bring ’em to a certain place I know of.  I’ll divide half to me, the other half to you two.  Are you game?”

“I sure am,” said Scott.  “How many do you think we can gather in?”

“Not so many on one trip.  Perhaps fifteen if we have good luck.  A big herd leaves a big trail.”

“There’s an old corral up near the Government elevation monument,” said Douglas.  “It’s all overgrown with bushes and young aspens so’s I don’t think one person out of twenty, knows it’s there.  Maybe we could corral ’em there?”

Charleton gave Douglas a quick glance.  “How’d you come to know about it?”

“I happened on it last summer tracking a bear.”

“That’s what I planned to use,” nodded Charleton.  “We’ll make a real cowman out of you yet.  So you’re ready to go, Doug?”

Douglas’ eyes were blazing.  “Go!  You couldn’t pay me enough to keep me away!  Nothing ever happens in this old valley.”

“All right!  Be here by nine o’clock to-morrow night, wearing chaps.  It’ll be rough riding and that Moose of yours will be quite considerably broke by the time we get back, Doug.  I’ll supply the grub.”

“Fine!” said Scott, rising.  “If that’s all, I’ll be running along.  Stage was late to-night and the crowd’ll be there getting mail.  I’ll be with you on time, Charleton.”

“Me too!” exclaimed Douglas, following Scott.