As the quick work of branding was brought to an end and the herd driven pell-mell down the river and into the heavy willows, the Boss of Verde Crossing sent half of his cowboys down to guard them and began to clean up the corral. First he put out the fires and quenched the hot running-irons and rings; then he removed the branding outfit, dug a deep hole in the river-bed and set his men to work in details, gathering up the clipped ears and swallow-forks from the trampled dirt of the corral. A single ear left lying would be a record of his theft, and when one of the Garcia _niños_, by an ill-timed dash for more ears, set Crit upon the trail of their play cows he rushed in and ravished all their toy corrals, even though Marcelina stood by the _ramada_ and curled her lip at his haste. "You will rob even the cheeldren, Meester Creet!" she remarked, as he dumped them all into his hat. "Mind your own business!" he answered, sharply, and scuttled away like a crab, bearing his plunder with him. "Ah, you ba-ad man!" observed Marcelina, making faces at his bent back. "I hope Paycos come back and _keel_ you!" But Isaac Crittenden was not worrying about any such small fry as Pecos Dalhart. Boone Morgan and John Upton were the men he had on his mind and it was about time for Upton to show up. A solitary horseman, high up on the shoulder of the peaks, had watched their departure from Carrizo Springs that morning, and if Upton had not known before he certainly knew very well now that the Monkey-wrench brand was no more. As for Boone Morgan—well, there was an IC cow in the corral, altered by John Upton to JIC, and it was just as big a crime to steal one cow as it was to steal a hundred. One thing was certain, no man from the IC outfit would call on the sheriff for aid; and if Upton was the red-headed terror that he claimed to be, the matter would be settled out of court.