"Well, I'm not sore now. I was a fool. Here comes Jimmy Day. Give me my mail, Peter, and I'll beat it. I'm in no frame of mind to talk to a kid." Jimmy, who was perhaps a year older than Douglas, pulled his sweating horse to its haunches. His dog, a mongrel collie, ran up the trail to meet the returning Sister and Prince. There was a whining colloquy, then the three dogs turned back. "Must be a scandal somewhere," suggested Jimmy. "No, just a dead coyote," said Peter. "Sister ran him down yesterday. Ain't a dog in the State outside of a greyhound can touch her." Douglas made a flying leap into the saddle while the Moose whirled on his hind legs. "Some horse, Doug!" exclaimed Jimmy. "I'll swap this and a two-year-older heifer for him." "I'm afraid he might hurt you. He's a regular man's horse, Jimmy." Doug lighted a cigarette while the Moose reared. "Thanks," grunted Jimmy. "Say, did you know Scott Parsons has had four young calves by one milch cow, all the same age? Ree-markable man, Scott. Say, I was by there the other day and there sat Scott in the corral on Ginger cracking a black snake at this fool cow to make her let those four slicks eat. He'll die rich, Scott will. He's the calf-gettingest rider in the Rockies." Douglas turned the Moose into the home trail. When he reached the ranch, Judith was strolling in the main corral with her arm about the neck of the bull Scott had given her. He would follow Judith about like a pet dog but would allow no one else to touch him. "When he is a little older, you won't be able to play with him that way, Jude," said Douglas, eying the pair with admiration not untinctured with apprehension. It was a brilliant afternoon, with the western sun throwing long golden shadows across old Dead Line Peak. The corral with its fringe of quivering aspens a silvery lavender; the great red bull; the young girl with her noble proportions, rubbing the brute's ferocious head with one slender brown hand, made an unforgettable picture. The puppy, Wolf Cub, was chewing an old boot beside the alfalfa stack. "He'll always be fond of me if I handle him right," said Judith. "Won't you, Sioux? I'm going to saddle him, some day, Doug." "Well, not while I'm around," exclaimed the young rider, as he pulled the bridle over the Moose's head. "Say, have you seen Scott yet?" "No. Why?" "I pity him. Charleton sure is after him." "Charleton? Why?" Douglas shrugged his shoulders. "You ask Scott why," and he strode off to his chores. Doug did not see Charleton again for several days. But one afternoon, about a week after the return from the hunt, they met at the post-office and Charleton, who wanted to see John, rode home with him. "Scott is back," said Doug. "Yes; I saw him yesterday." Charleton smiled. "I found out who was his helper on that little deal." "You did! How?" Douglas' voice was so sharp that the Moose jumped nervously. "I bought the information. Swapped him something for it."