Skeeter rode over and looked at the tangled wires, where they had been left. This was a real menace to range stock, no matter what the brand. He rode down along the fence-line, looking it over. Some of the posts had been set so loosely the wire had pulled them out. * * * * * Skeeter was sitting on his horse, studying the situation, when his gaze fell upon an object beside some trampled brush. He swung down, without dismounting, and picked it up. It was a rawhide honda with about a foot of hard-twist lariat rope still attached. Evidently a rope had snapped from the wires or a post and the honda had been flung aside where the rider had not been able to find it. Skeeter looked it over carefully, took off the piece of rope and put the honda in his pocket before riding back to the spring, where Fuzzy was working with the two cowboys. They had the spring pretty well cleaned out, but it would do little good without a fence. They tied their lariat ropes to the tangled wires, and managed to straighten them out. It was quite a job, getting the fence back where it would obstruct cattle from the spring and putting the wire back where it would not tangle cattle. “Who’s ridin’ for Dan Houk now?” asked Skeeter, as they rode back to the ranchhouse. “Ab Steele, Jim Grush and Andy Case,” replied Fuzzy. “Does Sam Keenan still ramrod his own outfit?” “No, he’s got a feller named Johnny Greer. He’s a good man, too.” “Looks to me like a turkey-necked gun-slinger from Texas,” declared Len Riggs. “Chaws his tobacco and his right hand is always crooked, ready to fit a gun-butt.” “Len is a natural-born fault-finder,” Fuzzy explained. “Why, he can’t even see any good in me.” “That,” said Skeeter, smiling, “is an intelligent state of bein’.” Len whooped and slapped his leg with a quirt. “That’s a good one!” he declared. “I still don’t like Johnny Greer.” “If he wasn’t all right, Sam Keenan wouldn’t have him, yuh can bet on that,” declared Fuzzy. “Sam’s particular.” Mrs. Davis had a big supper ready for them and they all did justice to it. Skeeter declared it was the first real meal he had eaten since he left Road-Runner Valley. He wanted to go back to town that evening but the Davises vetoed that at once. Skeeter Bill and Fuzzy went to Yellow Butte next day. Fuzzy wanted to talk with the sheriff about the vandalism, as he called it. Al Creedon, the sheriff, listened attentively, and said he’d see what could be done about it. While they were talking, Sam Keenan and his foreman, Johnny Greer, walked in. Keenan introduced Greer to Skeeter Bill, and Fuzzy told them what happened at Hanging Rock. “Well, did yuh get yore fence fixed again?” asked Keenan. “Yeah, after a fashion, Sam.” “Well, if yuh need more men, I’ll send some over, Fuzzy.” “No, we got it fixed pretty good. It’ll need a little more wire, but I’ve got that at the ranch.”