Rowdy of the "Cross L"
for him—reported his renting us pasture. Made the report read about twice as many as we're puttin' on. He's got orders now t' turn out every hoof but what b'longs there."
"My Lord!" Wooden Shoes gasped at the catastrophe which faced the Cross L.
"That's Harry Conroy's work," Pink cut in sharply. "He'd hurt the Cross L if he could, t' spite me and Rowdy. He"
"Don't matter—seein' it's done. Yuh might as well turn the herd loose right here, an' let 'em go t' the devil. I don't know what else t' do with 'em."
"Anything gone wrong?" It was Rowdy, who had left his place and ridden forward to see what was holding the herd back.
"Naw. We're fired off the reservation, is all. We got orders to take the herd to hell. Eagle Creek's leased it. Mr. Satan is going to keep house here in Montana; he says it's better for his trade," Pink informed him, in his girlish treble.
Eagle Creek turned on him fiercely, then thought better of it and grinned. "Them arrangements wouldn't make us any worse off 'n what we are," he commented. "Turn 'em loose, boys."
"Man, if yuh turn 'em loose here, the first storm
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