o' south nat'rally got called the South Y.D. I run stock in both valleys
when I was at The Forks, but not much since I came down here. Well,
there's maybe a thousand tons o' hay over in the South Y.D., an' you
boys better trail over there to-morrow an' pitch into it--that is, if
you're satisfied with the price I'm payin' you."

"The price is all right," said Transley, "and we'll hit the trail at
sun-up. There'll be no trouble--no confliction of interests, I mean?"

"Whose interests?" demanded the rancher, beligerently. "Ain't I the
father of the Y.D? Ain't the whole valley named for me? When it comes to
interests--"

"Of course," Transley agreed, "but I just wanted to know how things
stood in case we ran up against something. It's not like the old days,
when a rancher would rather lose twenty-five per cent. of his stock
over winter than bother putting up hay. Hay land is getting to be worth
money, and I just want to know where we stand."

"Quite proper," said Y.D., "quite proper. An' now the matter's under
discussion, I'll jus' show you my hand. There's a fellow named Landson
down the valley of the South Y.D. that's been flirtin' with that hay
meadow for years, but he ain't got no claim to it. I was first on the
ground an' I cut it whenever I feel like it an' I'm goin' to go on
cuttin' it. If anybody comes out raisin' trouble, you just shoo 'em off,
an' go on cuttin' that hay, spite o' hell an' high water. Y.D.'ll stand
behind you."

"Thanks," said Transley. "That's what I wanted to know."