As the Scarboroughs, the day before, had been impregnable to assault, so now Grimes held the upper hand; and, while his Mexican fighters patrolled the dry stream-bed, the sheep mowed down the grass. They were held in compact bands, each close to the creek, but as no one moved against them they were allowed to spread out and the clamor of their braying ceased. All was still in the Basin--as it had been before when the first band had gone to its fate--and as the heat came on the sheep huddled up together and slept in each other's shade. But the Scarboroughs had disappeared, some riding south and some west, and that was a bad sign for sheep. At the log fort of the Bassetts they watched in patient silence, now scanning the hilltops for any signs of riding men, now turning again to the sheep. These had roused up from their drowsing and drifted out across the grasslands, anxiously guarded by three pairs of crouching herders; but if Grimes had hoped that the Texans would charge him he was disappointed again. They were playing a waiting game, or planning some new ambush which would mean fresh disaster to his sheep; and as the afternoon wore on Grimes scouted about uneasily, finally returning to mount his black mule. He started back towards his herds, then changed his mind suddenly and galloped up to the Bassett door. "What--hiding in the house?" he hailed in mock surprise. "You'll get white from not seeing the sun. Or--well, I mean no disrespect, but where is that man Sharps, that misdoubted I would ever win my point? Will you look out there now and see my bands of sheep, feeding along like the beauties they are? And where are the Scarboroughs that were going to wipe me out if I dared to assert my rights?" "They're hiding in the hills," answered Winchester grimly, "and you'd better git off and come in." "Ah, weel," laughed Grimes, "I see you're no great fighters or you'd be in the hills yourselves. A man must come out boldly if he expects to get his rights, but we all of us follow our own nature. And that reminds me--how'd do, Mr. Hall--I'll be back for that ten-dollar hat!" He turned his mule to go, looking back for the answer, and a bullet struck the ground close behind him. "Yes you will!" called out Bill, as the mule cringed his tail and Grimes dropped down quickly with his gun. "Git around behind the house or they'll tap you off sure--they're shooting from the top of that hill!" "The damned cowards!" cursed Grimes, suddenly jumping at a close shot and dragging his mule by the head; but as he struggled to lead it off a third bullet came that struck the poor animal dead. "Come in here!" yelled Winchester, throwing open the door, but Grimes had gone out of his head.