"Best place for him. He'd have the herd on the run in no time if he was to come out to-night. Never knew a human being who could stir up so much trouble out of nothing as he can. We're coming up with the herd now. Be careful where you are riding, too." All was excitement. The cattle were moving restlessly about, prodding each other with their horns, while guards were galloping here and there, talking to them soothingly and whipping into line those that had strayed from the main herd. Bunches of fifteen or twenty were continually breaking through the lines and starting to run. Quirts and ropes were brought into use to check these individual rushes, the cowmen fearing to use their weapons lest they alarm the herd and bring on a stampede. "What's the trouble!" demanded Big-foot as they came up with the foreman. "I don't know. Bad weather, I guess. The evil one seems to have gotten into the critters to-night. Lead your men up to the north end of the line. We will take care of these fellows down here as best we can." The men galloped quickly to their stations. Then in the driving rain that soaked and chilled them the cowmen began their monotonous songs, interrupted now and then by a shout of command from some one in charge of a squad. There was no thunder or lightning this time. The men were thankful for that; it needed only some sudden disturbance to start the animals going. The disturbance came after an hour's work. The cowmen had brought some sort of order out of the chaos and were beginning to breathe easier. Stallings rode up to the head of the herd giving orders that the cattle be pointed in and kept in a circle if possible. To do this he called away all the men at the right save Tad Butler and Big-foot Sanders. As it chanced, they were at the danger spot when the trouble came. Chunky had been awakened by the disturbance in camp, not having fully aroused himself until after the departure of the men, however. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, grumbling about the weather and expressing his opinion of a cowpuncher's life in no uncertain terms. Finding that all had left him, the lad decided to get his pony and follow. "What's the matter, Pong?" he called, observing the Chinaman up and fixing the curtains about his wagon. "Allee same likee this," answered Pong hopping about in imitation of an animal running away. "He's crazy," muttered Chunky, going to his pony and swinging himself into the saddle. Chunky urged the animal along faster and faster. He could hear the cowboys on beyond him though he was able to see only a few yards ahead of him. However, the boy was becoming used to riding in the dark and did not feel the same uncertainty that he had earlier. "I'll bet they are getting ready to run away," he decided. In that, Stacy was right. Before he realized where he was he had driven his pony full into the rear ranks of the restless cattle.