"Say, Jake, where ’d you get them aigs?" Jake looked pained. "I got ’em off Cheyenne Charley," he asserted. "Cheyenne Charley? Where ’n blazes did he get ’em," wondered Buck. "Well, now, I can’t rightly say," drawled Jake, "but I’m certain shore o’ one thing: he never laid ’em." "No," agreed Buck, reflectively. "Did he give ’em to you?" he added. Jake yawned elaborately to hide the weakness of his position. "Not exactly," he admitted. "I got him drunk." "Oh," commented Buck. He turned to ride off when another question obtruded itself, but Jake had disappeared. Buck slid to the ground and entered quietly by another door, going to where he kept his private stock. A rapid inspection showed where Jake had obtained his supply. He had appropriated Buck’s whiskey to pay for eggs which it was very evident he had meant to eat himself. Only his vanity had led to their disclosure. "Th’ d—n scoundrel!" said Buck, and he hurriedly secured the demijohn in the one place in the house that locked. CHAPTER X INTRODUCING A PARASITE In the northeast corner of the Cyclone ranch, not far from the Little Jill, and in a hollow, well screened by hills and timber, One-Eye sat on his horse, smoking a brown cigarette and keeping a satisfied watch over a dozen mangy-looking cattle as they grazed intermittently in a restless, nervous way. They were a pitiful-looking handful, weak, emaciated, their skins showing bald patches and scabs, and they continually licked themselves and rubbed against the trees. While they were restless, it was without snap or vim; they were spiritless and drooping, enduring patiently until death should end their misery. One-Eye beamed upon them, his good optic glowing with satisfaction. He had gone to some trouble and risk to cut these miserable animals cut of the herd collected by the hasty round-up, and now that he was about to have them taken off his hands he sighed with deep content. To run infected cattle onto the Cyclone’s non-infected northern range was very dangerous, for his foreman was direct and unhesitating in his methods. Discovery might easily mean a bullet above One-Eye’s blue-red nose—and this accounts for that puncher’s satisfaction. Some men will do a great deal for ten dollars.