He did not learn till afterward that that very thing had been done, but every time a freshet occurred in the mountains a part of the gulch caved away, carrying with it the fence and all. It had thus grown to be less of an expense to the ranchmen to lose a few cattle every season than to erect new fences constantly. By the time Rob rejoined his friends, the cattle were standing ready for the drive back to their pastures. A more forlorn looking lot of beasts could not have been imagined. "They know they done wrong," volunteered Blinky, gazing at the dejected herd. "Well done, my boy," exclaimed Mr. Harkness, as Rob rode up. "I never saw a finer bit of horsemanship. But let us hope that such a resource will never again be necessary." "I hope so, too, Mr. Harkness," said Rob. "I tell you I was scared blue for a minute or two. If it hadn't been for this gritty little cayuse here, I'd never have done it." "So I did you a good turn, after all, when I roped up that four-legged bit of dynamite, thinking to play you a fine joke," said Blinky. "You did," laughed Rob, "and I thank you for it." "Say, Rob," put in Tubby plaintively, after the other boys had got through congratulating Rob, and wringing his hand till, as he said, it felt like a broken pump handle. "Say, Rob, don't ever do anything like that again, will you?" "Not likely to, Tubby--but why so earnest?" "Well, you know I've got a weak heart, and----" "A good digestion," laughed Mr. Harkness; "and speaking of digestions, reminds me that we haven't had any dinner." "As I was just about to observe," put in Tubby, in so comical a tone that they all had to burst out laughing, at which the stout youth put on an air of innocence and rode apart. "But," went on Mr. Harkness, "the 'chuck-wagon' I sent out to the Far Pasture last night should still be there. It isn't more than five miles. If you boys think you can hold out we can ride over there, and we can have a real chuck-wagon luncheon. How will that suit you?" "Down to the ground," said Rob. "From the ground up," chimed in Tubby, who had recovered from his assumed fit of the sulks, at the mention of the immediate prospect of a meal. "It'll be great," was Merritt's contribution to the general chorus of approval. "Very well, then. Blinky, you ride on ahead and tell Soapy Sam to cook us up a fine feed." "With beans, sir?" asked Blinky in an interested tone. "Of course. And if he has any T bone steaks, tell him we want those, too." "Say, did you hear the name of that cook?" asked Tubby, edging his pony up to Merritt's, as the cow-puncher spurred off on his errand. "Yes--Soapy Sam; what of it?" "Oh, I thought it was Soupy Sam, that's all," muttered Tubby. "Say, is that meant for a joke? If so, where is the chart that goes with it?" But Tubby had loped off to join the cow-punchers, who with yells and loud outcries were getting the steers in motion.