in the night, we may never have a run the entire trip. That last drink
of water they had this evening gave them a night-cap that'll last them
until morning. No, there's no danger of any trouble to-night."

For fully an hour after the return of our foreman, we lounged around
the fire, during which there was a full and free discussion of
stampedes. But finally, Flood, suiting the action to the word by
arising, suggested that all hands hunt their blankets and turn in for
the night. A quiet wink from Bull to several of the boys held us for
the time being, and innocently turning to Forrest, Durham inquired,--

"Where was--when was--was it you that was telling some one about a run
you were in last summer? I never heard you tell it. Where was it?"

"You mean on the Cimarron last year when we mixed two herds," said
Quince, who had taken the bait like a bass and was now fully embarked
on a yarn. "We were in rather close quarters, herds ahead and behind
us, when one night here came a cow herd like a cyclone and swept right
through our camp. We tumbled out of our blankets and ran for our
horses, but before we could bridle"--

Bull had given us the wink, and every man in the outfit fell back, and
the snoring that checked the storyteller was like a chorus of rip saws
running through pine knots. Forrest took in the situation at a glance,
and as he arose to leave, looked back and remarked,--

"You must all think that's smart."

Before he was out of hearing, Durham said to the rest of us,--