"I'll have to ask you not to do it again with any of them. And you'd better let me put your flask in a locked box I have in the chuck-wagon, if you don't carry it in your pocket, or you may not have any left by night." Gonzalez came up with a question, and Conrad remembered the letter he had for him. The Mexican took it with an unconcerned face, and went off behind the chuck-wagon. "I don't need to see the inside of it," thought Curtis; "but I'd like to all the same. Well, he'll be all right now, and I'm glad of it, for I'd hate to have to kill as good a roper as he is." A few minutes later José strolled toward the cook's fire, twisting the letter in his fingers. He was about to thrust it into the coals when Andy Miller jumped at him with a yell, and caught his hand. "Here, boys; José's got a love letter! Let's read it!" he shouted. Gonzalez resisted; Miller bore him down; and they rolled, struggling, over the ground. José's dark face was pale with anger and his teeth were set as he gripped the bit of paper in one fist and pummelled Andy's face with the other. Miller tried to shield himself from the blows with his arms, while he bent his energies to getting possession of the letter. "You're fightin', Andy; don't fergit to punch!" yelled Nosey Ike from the group of cowboys looking on. Miller was the stronger of the two, and almost had the Mexican in his power when Conrad came beside them, saying, "If you want the letter burned, José, give it to me." Gonzalez cast at him one doubtful, desperate look, and threw the twisted paper toward him. The superintendent thrust it in the fire, and he and Peters separated the two men. Gonzalez flashed at him a look of gratitude and walked away without a word. "Andy," said Conrad, "you're making too much trouble this morning. If you want to work with this outfit you've got to keep straight. If you don't want to do that you can pull your freight right now." The man turned away sullenly. "I'm not ready to pull my freight yet," he muttered. The other cowboys were saddling their ponies and making ready to begin the day's work. The bunched cattle, with the red rays of the morning sun warm upon their backs, were quietly grazing a little way down the hillside. Andy Miller started toward his horse, but turned and ran rapidly at the cattle. No one noticed what he was doing until, in a moment more, he was jumping, yelling, and swinging his hat at the edge of the herd. Snorting with sudden surprise and fright, the beasts were away again as though fiends were at their tails. Conrad rushed for his horse, but Peters, already mounted, yelled that they would not need him; and the foreman, with half a dozen others, dashed after the stampede. Andy Miller was coming slowly back, now and then stopping to smite his thigh and laugh. Curtis walked out to meet him. "Andy," he said, "I reckon I don't need you any longer. You can take your time this morning. Here's your money."