"Some high-falutin’ picklin’ factory," chuckled Chesty. "Messrs. Bow-Wow Baker an’ Chesty Sutton, world’s greatest mite picklers. Blue-noses, red-noses an’ other kinds o’ cow inhabitants a specialty. Give you a whole dollar, Bow-Wow, if you fall in." "Is that just a plain hope, or a insinooation?" demanded the cheerful Bow-Wow. "I sleep next to you, so don’t get too blamed personal. But we might put Jake in—though mebby his ain’t th’ right kind. Hey, Jake; come here." "If you wants to see me, you come here," retorted the cook. "I ’ve seen all of them ditches _I_ wants to. An’ I ain’t takin’ no chances with a couple o’ fools, neither." "Hey, Chesty!" called Bow-Wow, delighted. "Here comes that LX steer we had such a h—l of a time with in th’ railroad pens. Soak him good! Ah, ha, my long-horned friend; you was some touchy an’ peevish down there in Wayback. Take _that_—don’t worry, Chesty ’s been savin’ some for you, too. _Hard_, Chesty! That’s th’ boy—bet he ’s mad as a rattler." "Look at that moth-eaten scab of a yearlin’," laughed Chesty, pointing. "Th’ firm could declare dividends on th’ mites we ’ll pickle on her. _Souse_ she goes! Once more for luck—look at her steam up! H—l, _this_ ain’t work—it’s fun. Under you go, Alice dear. Next!" "Here comes Kinkaid o’ th’ Cyclone," announced Cock Murray, riding up to take a hasty look at the operations before he returned to the herd for another bunch of cows. Chesty handed his pole to Murray, grabbed up a lariat, and started for the newcomer, shouting: "Here comes some itch! Dip him, fellers! Quick!" Kinkaid manoeuvred swiftly, grinning broadly. "If that stuff is warmer ’n th’ water in th’ Jack, why, I might be coaxed into it. Howd’y, boys; thought I ’d come over an’ pick up some points." "How you makin’ out on th’ Cyclone?" asked Buck. "Bad—_very_ bad. We tried isolatin’ th’ mangy ones, but they ’re dyin’ like flies in frost time. Lost forty million so far an’ I reckon th’ other two ’ll die to-morrow. We thought our north range was free, but they ’re on that, too. We drove clean cows up in th’ Rockin’ Horse territory an’ now they ’re showin’ signs o’ havin’ th’ itch. Beats all how it travels." Cock Murray listened intently, but held his peace. He thought he might explain how it had travelled toward the Rocking Horse. "That’s where we noticed it first," said Buck. "We found some o’ yore cows on th’ Hog Back, an’ their trail left th’ river just below th’ Rockin’ Horse." Kinkaid looked surprised and asked questions. He sat very quietly for a few moments and then looked at Buck with a peculiar expression on his face. "Sick cows don’t swim th’ Jack, cold as it is now. I wonder who in h—l—?" he muttered, softly. "We ’re wonderin’, too, Kinkaid," replied Buck, slowly. "It’s lead or rope for anybody we ketch at it." Kinkaid nodded his emphatic endorsement of this.