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I'll leave him in charge of this bunch of stock overnight on. the berrendo. He'll run like a scared deer at the first shot. Hustle the beeves over the pass an' keep 'em movin' till you come to Lost Cache." Crouched over the blanket, they discussed details and settled them. Yankie rose to leave and Roush followed him to his horse. "Don't git a notion I'm scared of Albeen, Joe," he explained.

He went to Live-Oaks an' was seen to take the trail to the Ruidosa. Why?" "You've been spyin' on me," charged Yankie. He was under a savage desire to draw his gun but he could not shake off in a moment the habit of subordination bred by years of service with this man. "To let his fellow thieves know that he meant to leave a bunch of beef steers on the berrendo practically unguarded. That's why.

The alkali dust was caked on his unshaven face and the weary bronco was dripping with sweat. The owner of the Flying V Y, giving some last instructions to the foreman, turned to listen to the sputtering rider. "They they done run off that bunch of beeves on the berrendo," he explained, trembling with excitement. "Who?" "I don't know. A bunch of rustlers. About a dozen of 'em.

"Yankie up at the ranch?" he asked. "What do you want with him?" demanded Webb brusquely. "I got a message for him." "Who from?" Clanton was conscious of some irritation against this sharp catechism. In point of fact Billie Prince had asked him to notify Yankie that he had heard of the rustling on the berrendo and was taking the trail at once.

But Go-Get-'Em Jim was the last man in the world to be driven by compulsion. He had been ready to tell Webb the message Billie had given him for Yankie, but he was not ready to tell it until the Missourian moderated his tone. "Mebbe that's my business an' his, Mr. Webb," he said. "An' mine too if you've come to tell him how slick you pulled that trick on the berrendo." Jim stiffened at once.

It's a right doubtful policy for a man to stir up a rattler till it's crazy, then to turn it loose in his bedroom." The Missourian turned to the business of the hour. "We'll get a posse out after the rustlers right away. Dad. I'll see the boys an' you hustle up some rifles and ammunition." Half an hour later they saw the dust of the cowpunchers taking the trail for the berrendo.