It was apparent enough that Mr. Britt had not commenced to exhaust the subject of the Buffalo Basin stock. As a matter of fact, he had barely started; but the sound of horses coming up the path, and a whoop outside, caused a suspension of his conversation. Something heavy was thrown against the door, and when Susie opened it a roll of roped canvas rolled inside, while the lamplight fell upon the grinning faces of two Bar C cowpunchers. "What's that?" The Schoolmarm looked wonderingly at the bundle. "Aw-w-w!" Mr. Britt replied, in angry confusion. "It's my bed. I'll put a crimp in them two for this." He shouldered his blankets sheepishly and went out. VII CUPID "WINGS" A DEPUTY SHERIFF Riding home next morning with his bed on a borrowed pack-horse, morose, his mind occupied with divers plans for punishing the cowpunchers who had spoiled his evening and made him ridiculous before the Schoolmarm, "Babe" came upon something in a gulch which caused him to rein his horse sharply and swing from the saddle. With an ejaculation of surprise, he pulled a fresh hide from under a pile of rock, it having been partially uncovered by coyotes. The brand had been cut out, and with the sight of this significant find, the two cowpunchers, their obnoxious joke, even the Schoolmarm, were forgotten; for there was a new thief on the range, and a new thief meant excitement and adventure. Colonel Tolman's deep-set eyes glittered when he heard the news. As Running Rabbit had said, on the trail of a cattle-thief he was as relentless as a bloodhound. He could not eat or sleep in peace until the man who had robbed him was behind the bars. The Colonel was an old-time Texas cattleman, and his herds had ranged from the Mexican border to the Alberta line. He had made and lost fortunes. Disease, droughts, and blizzards had cleaned him out at various times, and always he had taken his medicine without a whimper; but the loss of so much as a yearling calf by theft threw him into a rage that was like hysteria. His hand shook as he sat down at his desk and wrote a note to the Stockmen's Association, asking for the services of their best detective. It meant four days of hard riding to deliver the note, but the Colonel put it into "Babe's" hand as if he were asking him to drop it in the mail-box around the corner. "Go, and git back," were his laconic instructions, and he turned to pace the floor. When "Babe" returned some eight days later, with the deputy sheriff, he found the Colonel striding to and fro, his wrath having in no wise abated. The cowboy wondered if his employer had been walking the floor all that time. "My name is Ralston," said the tall young deputy, as he stood before the old cattleman. "Ralston?" The Colonel rose on his toes a trifle to peer into his face. "Not Dick Ralston's boy?" The six-foot deputy smiled. "The same, sir." The Colonel's hand shot out in greeting.