However, neither the boys nor Mr. Havens were ever troubled by the fellow again. The signing of the deed by Mr. John Morrisy settled that. The old claim was controlled by Mr. Havens; and if ever anything of value should come from the mine, it would belong to him. The party of bison hunters found the big old bull and his seven comrades just as the boys had left them. The men praised Chet and Dig highly for their work in corralling the beasts. And when the head of the expedition saw the size of the big buffalo, he added a ten dollar bill to the agreed price he paid the happy boys. Chet and Dig could not wait to see the bison snared; they had been too long from home now. So they pushed for the train and cantered a long day’s travel toward Silver Run before they pulled up. Then, riding down into a sandy bottom they suddenly heard some creature bawling. Dig looked all about, noting the landmarks, and suddenly exclaimed: “By _all_ the hoptoads that were chased out of Ireland! It’s Stone Fence!” He dismounted instantly and found the calf in the thicket nearby. Whether it was glad to see the boys or not it suffered itself to be roped and this time it led very peaceably. In spite of anything Chet could say, Dig was determined to take the maverick home with him. That is how it came about that the two friends rode into the outskirts of Silver Run with a little red yearling trailing behind them and “blatting its head off,” as Dig expressed it. Everybody made comments upon it; but that did not disturb Digby Fordham. “I feel just like a brother towards this dogy,” he confessed. “Come on, Stone Fence! Lift your heels!” At Hardpan the boys came upon a curious sight. There was an exciting game of baseball going on in the empty lot. A nine of pure-blood Indians, captained by Amoshee, the lame Cheyenne, was matched against a scrub team of the neighbourhood boys, and, as Dig inelegantly put it, “the redskins were licking the socks off the white boys.” “I bet Amoshee is going after the scalps of the high school nine—and serve ’em right!” Chet said. “Those Indians can play some; can’t they?” Finally the trail boys arrived at home, and were welcomed by their parents and friends. They had had more than a week of adventures on the trail, had accomplished an important errand satisfactorily, and, secretly, were hoping for other adventures during their vacation. THE END End of Project Gutenberg's The Trail Boys of the Plains, by Jay Winthrop Allen