"Slippin' along like water down hill," laughed Slim, borrowed from his bed and board to help the Bar H. "Hey, Ridley!" he called to the busy inspector, "got any new-fangled improvements that'll make these chutes do it themselves, so th' hard-workin' punchers won't have to loaf in their saddles, but can set around an' gamble? Holy Maverick! Look at him tallyin'! He's shore workin' harder than he was yesterday." "Who's loafin', you fool?" snorted Sam, taking breath while the chute was being refilled. "I've stamped close to eight thousand since I climbed up here, an'--_Hot iron!_ _Hot iron!_" he yelled as the front bar dropped. "Wake up, you tramp!" "You've got a lot to say, you has!" snapped Lefferts, running up with the irons. "All _you_ got to do is push 'em ag'in' their hides--I'm near wore out!" "Why use any bars at all?" queried Reilly, grinning at the hard-working Sam. "Just let 'em filter through, stamping 'em on th' run. We're wastin' time, this way." "You've got near as much sense as Sam has!" retorted Lefferts, stirring his fire. "Which ain't payin' neither of you no compliments," he grunted. Big Tom could not deny the advantage of chute and stamping irons, and the ocular demonstration took from him his last reasonable objection to them, although he found fault with them because the herd had to be driven to the same place each round-up, and because he did not believe them to be suitable for calf branding; but when it was pointed out that the cattle had to be driven somewhere before the herd would be worth bothering with, and might as well be driven to the chutes, and that it would be a saving of time to do that, or to build more chutes on the ranch rather than to revert to the old methods, he could not deny it. Regarding the branding of calves there was a division of opinion; but calf branding was not nearly as hard or slow as the branding of grown animals. He knew, however, that the styles were changing, and changing under his eyes, and that for him to become stubborn and set against the change would be to appear ridiculous, and to become a source from which much levity would spring. The branding done and the tallies compared, the visiting punchers departed for their ranches, the inspectors accepting Big Tom's invitation to spend the night with him, and rode to the ranchhouse; and the herd, restless, sore, and in sullen mood, was watered well at the muddy pond and thrown upon the high bed ground, and would remain a herd until delivered to McCullough, and for some weeks thereafter. CHAPTER XXIV ON THE TRAIL After breakfast the following morning Ridley and his companion saddled their horses to ride back to Highbank, where they would wait for the trail boss. As they finished cinching up, Big Tom strolled into the corral and smilingly watched them. "I suppose you want Mac to bring you a check, as usual?" queried Ridley, swinging into the saddle.