face and hands at a little basin, plastered his wet hair down as his
companions had already done, and dropped into easy conversation with
the heavy, round-shouldered, yellow-haired man sitting across the room
from Conniston.

"Looks like the Ol' Man means real business, huh, Spud?"

Spud answered with a joyous oath that it certainly looked like it.

"He's puttin' Brayley in on this en' an' takin' ol' Bat Truxton clean
off'n it to throw him onto the Rattlesnake," Spud went on. "Bat 'll
have nigh on a hundred men down there workin' overtime before the
week's up, he says. I guess he'll have his paws full without tryin' to
run the cow en', too."

"An' I reckon," continued Jones, thoughtfully, "as how Brayley won't
sleep all the time up here. He's got to swing the whole Half Moon an'
the Lone Dog an' the Five Hills an' the Sunk Hole outfit." He shook
his head and spat before he concluded. "What with the Ol' Man buyin'
the Sunk Hole, an' figgerin' on marketin' in Injun Creek, an' crowdin'
work down in the Rattlesnake, Brayley 'll be some busy if he don't
take on another big bunch of punchers. Huh?"

Spud made no answer, for at this juncture the cook put a big platter
of steak, piled high, upon the table, and the men, dragging their
chairs after them, waited no other invitation "to set in." Conniston
for a moment held back. Then, as he saw that there were several vacant
places, he took up his own chair and sat down at the end of the table
nearest him. The man at his left helped himself to meat by harpooning
the largest piece in sight and dragging it, dripping, over the edge of