“I--I believe it is,” stammered Somers, blinking stupidly. “The rascal must have stolen him while I was asleep. Never mind, Hal; I’ll pay----” “While you was asleep!” Fielding bellowed. “Did you hear that, boys? _Asleep! Asleep!_” He climbed back slowly into the saddle and turned his tired horse’s head eastward. “Back home, boys,” he said wearily, with a disgusted glance at the blinking Somers. “It’s all off. Maybe some time we’ll learn why an all-wise Providence created greasers, sheepmen and tenderfeet.” [Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the February 1906 issue of The Popular Magazine.]