"By the living God, Sheriff!" he cried, white with anger. "This thing has got to stop if we have to call out the cavalry! We can't get a decent breakfast--not a whole plate or pan in the house! Our cayuses and cows are being slaughtered by the score! And as for the rest of our possessions, they are so full of holes that they whistle when the wind blows!" "So I heard," replied the sheriff. "I'll do my best." "We've been doing our best, but what good is it?" cried the foreman. "We are so plumb sleepy we go to sleep moving about! We dassent show our faces after dark without being made a target of! Our new wagons are wrecks, the corrals destroyed and the best grass made us fight for our lives while it burned! That cursed outlaw has got to be killed, d----n him!" "We'll do our best, Sneed," responded Shields. "I reckon we can stop it; at least we can give you a good night's rest." "Where are my five punchers?" Sneed asked; his words bellowed until his voice broke. "And Bucknell! D----n near dead before you found him above the canyon, tied up like a package of flour!" "Well, Charley can tell you about your men," Shields responded, viewing the devastation on all sides of him. "Well, what about them?" cried the foreman turning to the sheriff's deputy, anger flashing anew in his eyes. "Well," Charley slowly began, "I was taking a short cut this morning, and when I got to a place about a dozen miles southeast of the mouth of Bill's canyon, I saw five bodies on the desert. They were your cow-punchers, and they was so full of arrows that they looked like big brooms. Apaches, I reckon," he added sententiously. Sneed tore his hair and swore when he was not choking. "And after I told them to let up on that blasted outlaw's trail!" he yelled. "Where will it end, between war-whoops and murders? What sort of a God-forsaken layout is this, anyhow? A man can't stick his nose out of his own house after dark without having it skinned by a slug! He's a h--l of a hefty orphant, he is! Poor thing, ain't got no paw or maw to look after his dear little hide! He needs a regiment of cavalry for a papa, that's what he needs, and a good strong lariat for a mamma! Orphant! He's a h--l of a sumptious orphant!" "Have you trailed him?" asked the sheriff, having to smile in spite of himself at the execution on all sides of him, and at the foreman's words.