The others sat their ponies, alert, looking about them as men who have never been in a country before may do. Hilda saw the young fellow nearest to the Colonel say something to him in a low tone, and Marchbanks spoke again, on a somewhat different note: “Sorry to hurry you, Pearsall. We’re taking the cattle right out.” “What!” ejaculated Hank, startled into the mild indiscretion of questioning. “This afternoon? Turn right around and take the trail without waiting to rest?” The colonel reddened angrily. “The _cattle’s_ fresh, ain’t they?” he snapped. “_They_ don’t need to rest. I aim to take em out—and that as damned quick as I can get ’em out!” Speech and manner were sufficiently surprising. Hilda looked anxiously at Uncle Hank. But the manager had caught his breath now. His steady eyes studied the outfit unhurriedly. The horses were good, they and the men well accoutered. But the letter in Hank’s pocket mentioned things that couldn’t be done and get the cattle out in one day. “Well,” he allowed, “I don’t know but by pressing all hands in to help, we might get ’em out and worked and tallied over for ye. But what about the road-branding?” The colonel shook his head. It might have meant anything. The slim dark young fellow who held Hilda’s rather unwilling attention, and got her grudging admiration, in spite of lingering doubts, turned and spoke to the four others in so low a tone that Hilda thought Uncle Hank could hardly hear him. What he said was: “We’ll go through here, boys—cut the fence. Gid, you’ve got the nippers—cut here.” Gid was instantly off his horse and at work. The angry blood flew to Hilda’s face. “Hold on!” cried Pearsall. “Hold on! There’s a gate up yonder a piece. It won’t take you fifteen minutes longer, I—” He hesitated to characterize so wanton an outrage. “Don’t cut my fence.” The wires had already sprung, jangling and quivering, to the ground. “The boys’ll mend it. I’ll pay you,” Marchbanks said briefly, putting his horse through the gap. “Come on.” The seven men rode to the herd, from whose edges Burch and the Three S cowboys were watching the maneuvers of the newcomers. “Get to work, men,” said Marchbanks, and the cutting out of calves was soon in full swing.