Al, now that he had vanquished his opponent and made him seek the intrenchment of his counter, cast his eye about and searched the length of Main Street, one side and then the other. He expected to get sight of some one of the crew that had brought the cattle into the loading-pens; but they had totally disappeared. After looking into a few likely places, and finding that he had guessed wrong, he paused on a street corner to give the matter deeper thought. "Come on, Al," said Toot Wilson, hastening past. "Where at?" "Up to the saddle-maker's. They 're in there. He is making a fine one. Did you see it?" "No." "It's for young Chase. It's great work." In John Diefenbach's workroom was a numerous company of saddle admirers, sitting and lounging about in the seductive odor of new-mown leather. The saddler, happily busied among his patterns and punches and embossing-tools, turned at times and peered over the rims of his spectacles in evident satisfaction. The heavy stock saddle, its quantities of leather all richly beflowered, was mounted on a trestle beside him. It was so near completion that the long saddle-strings now hung down in pairs all round, and these thongs, being of lighter-colored leather, and sprouting out of the hearts of embossed primroses, looked quite as if they were the natural new growth of that spring--in fact the whole flourishing affair might have been expected to put on a few more layers of leather out of its own powers of luxuriance. But there was nothing superfluous about it. "What do you think of it, Al?" asked one of the company. Todd looked it over, the broad hair girths fore and aft, the big cinch rings and strong stirrup straps. The stirrups were missing. His eye sought the hooks and pegs over the workbench. "Do _them_ things go on it?" he asked, pointing an accusing finger. Hanging on the wall was a pair of Mexican _tapaderas_--deep hooded stirrups with a great superfluity of leather extending below as if they were wings for the feet. "Oh! no, no, no," said the saddler, turning hastily and holding up his hand as if to quell this mental disturbance before it had gone too far. "These go on it--these." He held out a pair of plain wooden hoops. Todd's countenance rearranged itself at once. "She's a jim-dandy," said Todd. With this verdict rendered, he seated himself on a chair which had a nail-keg for legs and gave his attention to the principal speaker as he resumed his account of a roping-match. The story was rather long, showing how it was that the best man did n't win. In the ensuing silence Todd found his opportunity to speak. "I just heard something," he said. "Steve Brown is herding sheep." "That's nothing," said the story-teller. "He done that a couple of times before." "And they say there is a woman out there with him," added Todd. "A woman! What woman?" "I don't know. Tuck Reedy rode past and saw them sitting by the fire. Ed Curtis saw her too."