unnoted realm all their own--had money and political influence.
And there seemed still range enough for all. If a man wished to
throw a drift fence here or there, what mattered it?

Up to this time not much attention had been paid to the Little
Fellow, the man of small capital who registered a brand of his
own, and who with a Maverick* here and there and the natural
increase, and perhaps a trifle of unnatural increase here and
there--had proved able to accumulate with more or less rapidity a
herd of his own. Now the cattle associations passed rules that no
foreman should be allowed to have or register a brand of his own.
Not that any foreman could be suspected--not at all!--but the
foreman who insisted on his old right to own a running iron and a
registered brand was politely asked to find his employment
somewhere else.

* In the early days a rancher by the name of Maverick, a Texas
man, had made himself rich simply by riding out on the open range
and branding loose and unmarked occupants of the free lands.
Hence the term "Maverick" was applied to any unbranded animal
running loose on the range. No one cared to interfere with these
early activities in collecting unclaimed cattle. Many a
foundation for a great fortune was laid in precisely that way. It
was not until the more canny days in the North that Mavericks
were regarded with jealous eyes.


The large-handed and once generous methods of the old range now
began to narrow themselves. Even if the Little Fellow were able
to throw a fence around his own land, very often he did not have