It was an hour after the usual time when we bedded down the cattle. The wagon had overtaken us about sunset, and the cook’s fire piloted us into a camp fully two miles to the right of the trail. A change of horses was awaiting us, and after a hasty supper Tupps detailed two young fellows to visit Ogalalla. It required no urging; I outlined clearly what was expected of their mission, requesting them to return by the way of Flood’s wagon, and to receive any orders which my employer might see fit to send. The horse-wrangler was pressed in to stand the guard of one of the absent lads on the second watch, and I agreed to take the other, which fell in the third. The boys had not yet returned when our guard was called, but did so shortly afterward, one of them hunting me up on night-herd. “Well,” said he, turning his horse and circling with me, “we caught onto everything that was adrift. The Rebel and Sponsilier were both in town, in charge of two deputies. Flood and your brother went in with us, and with the lads from the other outfits, including those across the river, there must have been twenty-five of Lovell’s men in town. I noticed that Dave and The Rebel were still wearing their six-shooters, while among the boys the arrests were looked upon as quite a joke. The two deputies had all kinds of money, and wouldn’t allow no one but themselves to spend a cent. The biggest one of the two—the one who gave you the cigar—would say to my boss: ‘Sponsilier, you’re a trail foreman from Texas—one of Don Lovell’s boss men—but you’re under arrest; your cattle are in my possession this very minute. You understand that, don’t you? Very well, then; everybody come up and have a drink on the sheriff’s office.’ That was about the talk in every saloon and dance-hall visited. But when we proposed starting back to camp, about midnight, the big deputy said to Flood: ‘I want you to tell Colonel Lovell that I hold a warrant for his arrest; urge him not to put me to the trouble of coming out after him. If he had identified himself to me this afternoon, he could have slept on a goose-hair bed to-night instead of out there on the mesa, on the cold ground. His reputation in this town would entitle him to three meals a day, even if he was under arrest. Now, we’ll have one more, and tell the damned old rascal that I’ll expect him in the morning.’”