about her horns. As he threw his horse back to check the cow, I rode
to his assistance, my rope in hand, and as the cow turned ends, I
heeled her. A number of the outfit rode up and dismounted, and one of
the boys taking her by the tail, we threw the animal as humanely as
possible. In order to get at the brand, which was on the side, we
turned the cow over, when Flood took out his knife and cut the hair
away, leaving the brand easily traceable.

"What is she, Jim?" inquired Fox, as he sat his horse holding the rope
taut.

"I'll let this man who claims her answer that question," replied
Flood, as her claimant critically examined the brand to his
satisfaction.

"I claim her as an 'O' cow," said the stranger, facing Flood.

"Well, you claim more than you'll ever get," replied our foreman.
"Turn her loose, boys."

The cow was freed and turned back into the herd, but the claimant
tried to argue the matter with Flood, claiming the branding iron had
simply slipped, giving it the appearance of a "Q" instead of an "O" as
it was intended to be. Our foreman paid little attention to the
stranger, but when his persistence became annoying checked his
argument by saying,--

"My Christian friend, there's no use arguing this matter. You asked to
have the cow thrown, and we threw her. You might as well try to tell
me that the cow is white as to claim her in any other brand than a