"All right," said Pink cheerfully. It was in open defiance of range
etiquette; but their need was desperate. The only thing about it Pink did
not like was the long detour they must make. He called the news across to
the Silent One, after Wooden Shoes had gone on down the line, and they swung
the point gradually to the left.

Before that drive was over, Pink had vowed many times to leave the range
forever and never to turn another cow--besides a good many other foolish
things which would be forgotten, once he had a good sleep. And Rowdy,
plodding half-way down the herd, had grown exceedingly pessimistic regarding
Jessie Conroy, and decided that there was no sense in thinking about her all
the time, the way he had been doing. Also, he told himself savagely that if
Harry ever crossed his trail again, there would be something doing. This
thing of letting a cur like that run roughshod over a man on account of a
girl that didn't care was plumb idiotic. And beside him the cattle walked
and walked and walked, a dim, moving mass in the quiet July night.



CHAPTER 10

Harry Conroy at Home.

It was late next morning when they got under way; for they had not reached
camp until long after midnight, and Wooden Shoes was determined the cattle
should have one good feed, and all the water they wanted, to requite them
for the hard drive of the day before.

Pink rode out with Rowdy to the herd--a heavylidded, gloomy Rowdy he was,