fifteen or twenty miles from your place."

"And you say they are spoiling the range?"

"They're ce'tainly spoiling it for cows."

"But can't something be done? If my cows were there first I don't
see what right he has to bring his sheep there," the girl
frowned.

The assembled company attended strictly to supper. The girl,
surprised at the stillness, looked round. "Well?"

"Now you're shouting, ma'am! That's what we say," enthused Texas,
spurring to the rescue.

"It doesn't much matter what you say. What do you do?" asked
Helen, impatiently. "Do you lie down and let Mr. Bannister and
his kind drive their sheep over you?"

"Do we, Soapy?" grinned Texas. Yet it seemed to her his smile was
not quite carefree.

"I'm not a cowman myself," explained Soapy to the girl. "Nor do I
run sheep. I--"

"Tell Miss Messiter what yore business is, Soapy," advised Yorky
from the end of the table, with a mouthful of biscuit swelling
his cheeks.