energy and courage to keep them from dashing into the water. Once or
twice indeed it was a toss-up whether or not they would rush over him.
He was nearly exhausted when some four hours after the start they came
in sight of the little town. Here he let the herd into the creek. Glad
of the rest, he sat on his panting horse and wiped the perspiration from
his face. After the cattle had drunk their fill, he moved them quietly
along the road, while the water dripped from their mouths and bodies. At
the scales the Elder met the would-be purchaser, who as soon as he
caught sight of the stock burst into a laugh.

"Say, Conklin," he cried out, "I guess you've given them cattle enough
to drink, but I don't buy water for meat. No, sir; you bet, I don't."

"I didn't allow you would," replied the Elder gravely; "but the track
was long and hot; so they drank in the crik."

"Wall," resumed the dealer, half disarmed by this confession, which
served the Elder's purpose better than any denial could have done, "I
guess you'll take off fifty pound a head for that water."

"I guess not," was the answer. "Twenty pound of water's reckoned to be
about as much as a kyow kin drink."

The trading began and continued to Bancroft's annoyance for more than
half an hour. At last it was settled that thirty pounds' weight should
be allowed on each beast for the water it had drunk. When this
conclusion had been arrived at, it took but a few minutes to weigh the
animals and pay the price agreed upon.

The Elder now declared himself ready to go "to hum" and get somethin' to