“I just sent some of the boys out to drive in the cayuses,” Hopalong remarked, “an’ when they get here you fellers match for choice an’ pick yore remuda.  No use taking too few.  About eight apiece’ll do us nice.  I shore like a good cavvieyeh.”

“Hullo, Hoppy!” came from the platform as Billy grinned his welcome through the dust on his face.  “Want a job?”

“Hullo yoreself,” growled Pete.  “Stick yore iron on that fourth steer before he gets out, an’ talk less with yore mouth.”

“Pete’s still rabid,” called Billy, performing the duty Pete suggested.

“That may be the polite name for it,” snorted one of the iron heaters, testing an iron, “but that ain’t what I’d say.  Might as well cover the subject thoroughly while yo’re on it.”

“Yes, verily,” endorsed his companion.

“Here comes the last of ’em,” smiled Pete, watching several cattle being driven towards the chute.  “We’ll have to brand ’em on the move, Billy; there ain’t enough to fill the chute.”

“All right; hot iron, you!”

Early the next morning the inspector looked them over and made his count, the herd was started north and at nightfall had covered twelve miles.  For the next week everything went smoothly, but after that, water began to be scarce and the herd was pushed harder, and became harder to handle.

On the night of the twelfth day out four men sat around the fire in West Valley at a point a dozen miles south of Bennett’s Creek, and ate heartily.  The night was black—­not a star could be seen and the south wind hardly stirred the trampled and burned grass.  They were thoroughly tired out and their tempers were not in the sweetest state imaginable, for the heat during the last four days had been almost unbearable even to them and they had had their hands full with the cranky herd.  They ate silently, hungrily—­there would be time enough for the few words they had to say when the pipes were going for a short smoke before turning in.

“I feel like hell,” growled Red, reaching for another cup of coffee, but there was no reply; he had voiced the feelings of all.

Hopalong listened intently and looked up, staring into the darkness, and soon a horseman was seen approaching the fire.  Hopalong nodded welcome and waved his hand towards the food, and the stranger, dismounting, picketed his horse and joined the circle.  When the pipes were lighted he sighed with satisfaction and looked around the group.  “Driving north, I see.”

“Yes; an’ blamed glad to get off this dry range,” Hopalong replied.  “The herd’s getting cranky an’ hard to hold—­but when we pass the creek everything’ll be all right again.  An’ ain’t it hot!  When you hear us kick about the heat it means something.”

“I’m going yore way,” remarked the stranger.  “I came down this trail about two weeks ago.  Reckon I was the last to ride through before the fence went up.  Damned outrage, says I, an’ I told ’em so, too.  They couldn’t see it that way an’ we had a little disagreement about it.  They said as how they was going to patrol it.”