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Updated: June 26, 2025
Transley and Y.D. rode about, carefully scrutinizing the short grass for iron stakes, and keeping a general eye on operations. Suddenly Transley sat bolt-still on his horse. Then, in a low voice, "Y.D!" he said. The rancher turned and followed the line of Transley's vision. The nearest of Landson's stacks was ablaze, and a great pillar of smoke was rolling skyward.
Even while they took in the situation they could feel the hot breath of the distant fire borne against their faces. "Well, it's up to us," said Transley tersely. "We'll make a fight of it. Got any speed in that nag of yours?" Without waiting for an answer he put spurs to his horse and set forward on a wild gallop into the smoke.
Transley filtered through; she was too prominent a character in that countryside to be lost track of in a season. But anything which reached Grant came through accidental channels; he sought no information of her, and turned a deaf ear, almost, to what he heard. Then in the fall came an incident which immediately changed the course of his career.
He had to drop the lines to run to his assistance, and the horses, terrified by smoke and fire and the excitement of the fight, immediately bolted. The teamster took Transley in his arms and half carried, half dragged him into the safe area behind the backfires. And a few minutes later the main fire, checked on its front, swept by on the flank and raced on up through the valley.
"Perhaps," thought Linder to himself, as he turned the incident over in his mind, "perhaps that is why Transley is boss, and I'm just foreman." The young woman's behavior seemed to support that conclusion. She did not answer Transley's question, but she gave no evidence of displeasure. "You boys must be hungry," Y.D. was saying. "Pile in."
And Grant, taking his young charge from his shoulder, stepped up on to the porch and knocked at the screen door. In a moment it was opened by Zen Transley.
Doing their best, doubtless, to embarrass me with additional wealth. What are YOU going to do?" "Don't know. Maybe go back and work for Transley." The mention of Transley threw Grant's mind back into old channels. He had almost forgotten Transley. He told himself he had quite forgotten Zen Transley, but once he knew he lied. That was when they potted him in No Man's Land.
"You see, I got quite well acquainted with Mr. Drazk when he came back to hunt for a horse blanket which had mysteriously disappeared," she explained to Transley. They ascended the steps which led from the ground into the wagon. The table had been reset for four, and as the shadows were now heavy in the valley, candles had been lighted. Y.D. and his daughter sat on one side, Transley on the other.
The sun had fallen behind the mountains, the valley was filled with shadow, the afterglow, mauve and purple and copper, was playing far up the sky when Transley's outfit reached the Y.D. corrals. George Drazk had opened the gate and waited beside it. "Y.D. wants you an' Linder to eat with him at the house," he said as Transley halted beside him. "The rest of us eat in the bunk-house."
After a pause in the stream they drew out on the farther bank, where were open spaces among cottonwood trees, and Transley indicated that this would be their camping ground. Already smoke was issuing from the chuck wagon, and in a few minutes the men's sleeping tent and the two stable tents were flashing back the afternoon sun.
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