the Saw Log. An hour later, as we were scaling the divide, one of
the point-men sighted a posse in our rear, coming after us like
fiends. I was riding in the swing at the time, the herd being
strung out fully a mile, and on catching first sight of the
pursuers, turned and hurried to the rear. To my agreeable
surprise, instead of a sheriff's posse, my brother and five of
his men galloped up and overtook us.

"Well, Tom, it's a good thing you moved last night," said Bob, as
he reined in his reeking horse. "A deputy sheriff and posse of
six men had me under arrest all night, thinking I was the Quirk
who had charge of Don Lovell's 'Open A' herd. Yes, they came to
my camp about midnight, and I admitted that my name was Quirk and
that we were holding Lovell's cattle. They guarded me until
morning,--I slept like an innocent babe myself,--when the
discovery was made that my herd was in a 'Circle Dot' road-brand
instead of an 'Open A,' which their warrant called for. Besides,
I proved by fourteen competent witnesses, who had known me for
years, that my name was Robert Burns Quirk. My outfit told the
posse that the herd they were looking for were camped three miles
below, but had left during the afternoon before, and no doubt
were then beyond their bailiwick. I gave the posse the
horse-laugh, but they all went down the creek, swearing they
would trail down that herd of Lovell's. My cattle are going to
follow up this morning, so I thought I'd ride on ahead and be
your guest in case there is any fun to-day."

The auxiliary was welcomed. The beeves moved on up the divide
like veterans assaulting an intrenchment. On reaching a narrow
mesa on the summit, a northwest breeze met the leaders, and