"Cal's bored through the shoulder," Johnny explained. "Now, Jim, you've got to go up and get Dr. Rankin. He lives at Barnes's hotel, you know. Barnes is all right; bring him down, too, if you happen to wake him up. Go around to Danny Randall's quietly and tell him we want to see him. He sleeps in that little back room. Throw some pebbles against the stovepipe; that'll wake him up. Look out he doesn't pot you. Don't let anybody see you if you can possibly help; and tell the others to slip out here quietly, too. Do you understand all that?" "I see what I'm to do," I assented; "but let me in! What's it all about?" "We met these men and three others driving Woodruff's oxen this morning," said Johnny rapidly. "Stopped and had quite a chat with them. They told what sounded like a straight story of having bought the oxen. I knew Woodruff wanted to sell. Didn't suppose they'd have the nerve to lift them right under our noses. Guess they hadn't an idea they'd meet us on the road. We were taking the lower trail just for a change. So as soon as we got the news from you, we went back, of course. They suspected trouble, and had turned off. Old and Cal are wonders at trailing. Came up with them just beyond Bitter Water, and monkeyed around quite a while before we got a favourable chance to tackle them. Then we took the cattle away and brought back these birds. That's all there was to it." "You said five. Where are the other three?" "Killed 'em," said Johnny briefly. "Now run along and do your job." After some delay and difficulty I fulfilled my instructions, returning at last in company with Danny Randall, to find my friends sitting around the little fire, and Dr. Rankin engaged in bathing Cal's wound. Johnny was repeating his story, to which the others were listening attentively. "I learned a little more of this sort of thing in Sacramento," he was concluding. "And I'd like to state this right here and now: practical jokes on these immigrants are poor taste as far as I am concerned from now on. That's my own private declaration of war." "Let's take a look at your birds, Johnny," suggested Randall. I brought out the prisoners and stacked them up against the trees. They gave us back look for look defiantly. "You won't live a week after this," said the Morton man, whose name was Carhart, addressing Johnny. "I'll just have a look at your head, my friend," said Dr. Rankin. The man bent his head, and the doctor began to remove the bloody bandages. "Question is," said Johnny, "what do we do with them?" Danny was thinking hard. "One of two things," said he at length: "We can string them up quietly, and leave them as a warning; or we can force matters to a showdown by calling a public meeting." "Question is," said I, "whether we can get anybody with nerve enough to serve as officers of court, or, indeed, to testify as witnesses." "You said a true word there," put in Carhart with an oath.