“How d’ ye do, Major? Jist dropped in fur a minute. Did n’t know you wuz here, Judge, though I’m proud to see you—always glad to see the court in a friendly way.” “Well, Spencer, what is it?” asked the major, looking at him intently. “Nothin’ much alarmin’,” replied Spencer, “only me an’ Kinneman jist got back from the Cimarron River, an’ it’s reported there wuz about two hundred head of fat beeves cut out uv Horton’s herd and driv’ off ‘bout ten days ago.” “Infamous, infamous!” said the major, coming to his feet, and striking the table with his hand, as if to give emphasis to his feelings. “Us fellers heerd,” replied Dan,’ “thet you wuz still ‘way lecturin’ to the Barley Hullers, else we’d come back sooner an’ reported, an’ thet’s the truth.” “Another reason, Major,” interposed Lynn, “speakin’ on the spur of the minute like, why you should favorably consider my idee. You need a deputy—bet yer life you do, in this ‘ere lecturin’ business; then you could give yer time to runnin’ down and locoin’ the cattle thieves. I wear magnifyin’ glasses, I do, when such swell opportunities as this ‘ere comes slidin’ ‘round under my nose, bet yer life I do.” The major seemed lost in thought, and walked slowly back and forth, with his hands clasped behind him, paying no attention whatever to Judge Lynn’s observations. Presently he said: “Very well, Spencer, I will see you and Kinne-man this evening, after the Barley Hullers’ meeting. Call at my house about eleven o’clock.” “All right,” replied Spencer, “jist as you say; you kin always count on Bill Kinneman and yours truly bein’ punctu’l when you give the word,” and with this Dan shuffled out of the room. After he had gone, the major said: “This is a bad business, very bad. The Patriot comes out to-morrow, and I must write up this last outrage of the cattle thieves. It is simply incomprehensible how they can carry on this lawless work without being detected.” “My private opinion, Major, speakin’ once-served-like,” said Judge Lynn, “is that you’re needed dangnation bad to sort o’ look after these ‘ere fellers, person’ly, an’ you can’t do it spendin’ yer time away from home lecturin’, bet yer life you can’t.” The major scowled, and, seating himself at the table, commenced writing, and soon after Judge Lynn quietly took his departure, without again venturing to broach the subject of being made deputy lecturer. About eight o’clock that evening Hugh called at the Patriot office. “Well, well!” exclaimed Major Hampton. “This is, indeed, a pleasing surprise,—a refreshing whiff of the unexpected.” “The pleasure is all mine, Major,” replied Hugh, seating himself at the earnest solicitation of his old friend. “I have been trying,” continued Hugh, “for several days to find time to call on you, but you know so much has happened.”