"On the jump, just as fast as we can get them on the run," he said triumphantly. "Judith wanted me to tell you." "I see," answered Lee slowly. His eyes left Hampton's flushed face and went to the distant cliffs. It was no way of Bud's to hide his eyes from a man, and yet now he did hide them. He did not want Hampton to see what they showed so plainly, in spite of his attempt to master his emotion. He was hurt. Long ago he had offended Judith, and she had waited until now to repay his rude insult with this cool little slap in the face. She had not consulted him, she had not mentioned a sale to him, and now she sent Hampton and did not even come to him with a word of explanation. It was quite as if she had said: "You are just a servant of mine, like the rest, Bud Lee, and I treat you accordingly." Until Judith had come, there had been nothing that this man loved as he did his work among his horses. He watched them as day after day they grew into clean-blooded perfection; he appraised their values; he saw personally to their education, helping each one of them individually to become the true representative of the proudest species of animal life. Had he turned his eye now to the herd down yonder he could have seen the animal he had selected for a brood-mare next year, the three-year-old destined to draw all eyes as he stepped daintily among the best of the single-footers in Golden Gate Park, the rich red bay gelding that he would mate for a splendid carriage team. . . . Oh, he knew them all like human friends, planned the future for each, the sale of each would be no sorrow but rather a triumph of success. And now, to see them lumped and sold to Doan, Rockwell & Haight--even that hurt. But most of all did Judith's treatment of him cut, cut deep. "You're a fool, Bud Lee," he told himself softly. "Oh, God, what a fool!" "The buyers will be here the first thing to-morrow," said Hampton. "Judith says we're to have everything ready for them." "I'll not keep her waiting," answered Lee quietly. And with a quick touch of the spur he whirled his horse and left Hampton abruptly, going straight to the plateau. "Round 'em up, Tommy," he said sharply. "Every damned hoof of them: They go back to the corrals." Though quick questions surged up in Tommy's brain, none of them was asked just yet, for he had seen the look on Lee's face. It was early in the afternoon when Hampton carried his messages to Carson and Lee. It was after dark when Lee, his work done, his heart still sore and heavy, came into the men's bunk-house. It was very still, though close to a dozen men were in the room. Lee's eyes found Carson and he guessed the reason for the silence. Carson was in a towering rage that flamed red-hot in his eyes; under the spell of his dominating emotion, the men sat and stared at him. "Well, what's wrong?" asked Lee coolly from the door.