"Wal, my name is Hughes--Jed Hughes; I uster hang out round San Antone, an' hev been mostly in the cow business. The last five years Le Fevre an' I hev been grazin' cattle in between yere an' Buffalo Creek." "Partners?" "Wal, by God! I thought so, till just lately," his voice rising. "Anyhow, I hed a bunch o' money in on the deal, though I 'll be darned if I know just what's become o' it. Yer see, stranger, Gene hed the inside o' this Injun business, bein' as he 's sorter squaw man--" "What!" interrupted the other sharply. "Do you mean he married into one of the tribes?" "Sorter left-handed--yep; a Cheyenne woman. Little thing like that did n't faze Gene none, if he did have a white wife--a blamed good-looker she was too. She was out here onc't, three years ago, 'bout a week maybe. Course she did n't know nothin' 'bout the squaw, an' the Injuns was all huntin' down in the Wichitas. But as I wus sayin', Gene caught on to this yere Injun war last spring--I reckon ol' Koleta, his Injun father-in-law, likely told him what wus brewin'--he's sorter a war-chief. Anyhow he knew thet hell wus to pay, an' so we natch'ally gathered up our long-horns an' drove 'em east whar they would n't be raided. We did n't git all the critters rounded up, as we wus in a hurry, an' they wus scattered some 'cause of a hard winter. So I come back yere to round up the rest o' ther bunch." "And brand a few outsiders." He grinned. "Maybe I was n't over-particular, but anyhow I got a thousand head together by the last o' June, an' hit the trail with 'em. Then hell sure broke loose. 'Fore we 'd got that bunch o' cattle twenty mile down the Cimarron we wus rounded up by a gang o' Cheyenne Injuns, headed by that ornery Koleta, and every horn of 'em drove off. Thar wa'n't no fight; the damn bucks just laughed at us, an' left us sittin' thar out on the prairie. They hogged hosses an' all." He wiped his face, and spat into the fire, while Hamlin sat silent, gun in hand.