although budd hankinson and grizzly weber were removed from the scene of the events described, the night was not to pass without their becoming actors in some stirring incidents.

ordinarily they would have spent the hours of darkness at the ranch of their employer, for the immense herds of cattle, as a rule, required no looking after. the ranges over which they grazed were so extensive that they were left to themselves, sometimes wandering for many miles from the home of their owner. they might not be seen for days and weeks. their brands and the universal respect in which such proof of proprietorship was held prevented, as a rule, serious loss to the owners.

but the date will be recognized by the reader as one of a peculiarly delicate nature, when men were obliged to look more closely after their rights than usual.

the couple, therefore, rode behind the cattle to the foothills, along which they were expected to graze for an indefinite time. hustlers were abroad, and the occurrences of the previous day had inflamed the feeling between them and the cowmen. it was not unlikely that, having been beaten off, some of them might take the means of revenging themselves by stealing a portion of the herd.

budd and weber dismounted after reaching the foothills, and, without removing the saddles from their horses, turned them loose to graze for themselves. no fear of their wandering beyond recall. a signal would bring them back the moment needed.

the hardy ranchers seated themselves with their backs against a broad, flat rock, which rose several feet above their heads. the bits were slipped from the mouths of their horses, so as to allow them to crop the succulent grass more freely, while the men gave them no attention, even when they gradually wandered beyond sight in the gloom.

"times are getting lively in these parts," remarked weber, as he filled his brierwood and lit it; "this thing can't go on forever; the rustlers or cowmen have got to come out on top, and i'm shot if one can tell just now which it will be."

"there can only be one ending," quietly replied his companion, whose pipe, being already lit, was puffed with the deliberate enjoyment of a veteran; "the rustlers may stir things up, and i s'pose they've got to get worse before they get better, but what's the use? it's like a mob or a riot; the scamps have things their own way at first, but they knuckle under in the end."

"i guess you're right; that was bad business yesterday; i shouldn't wonder if it ended in the young folks moving east again with their mother, whose heart is broke by the death of her husband."

"the younker is too plucky a chap to light out 'cause the governor has been sent under; he's had better luck than most tenderfeet who come out here and start in the cattle bus'ness; he done well last year, and if the rustlers let him alone, he'll do a good deal better this year; he may move, but he ain't agoin' to let them chaps hurry him, you can make up your mind to that."

the couple smoked a minute or two in silence. then weber, without removing his pipe from between his lips, uttered the words:

"budd, something's going to happen powerful soon."

hankinson, also keeping his pipe between his lips, turned his head and looked wonderingly at his friend. he did not speak, but the action told his curiosity; he did not understand the words.

"i mean what i say," added weber, shaking his head; "i know it."

"what do you mean? something happens every night and every day."

"that isn't what i'm driving at; something's going to happen afore daylight; you and me ain't through with this work."

hankinson was still dissatisfied. he took his pipe from his mouth, and, looking sideways at his friend, asked:

"can't you come down to facts and let a fellow know what you're driving at?"

"i don't exactly know myself, but i feel it in my left leg."

at this strange remark the other laughed heartily and silently. he had little patience with superstition. he knew his friend held peculiar whims in that respect. weber expected something in the nature of scoffing and was prepared for it. he spoke doggedly:

"it has never deceived me. six years ago, when we was trying to round up geronimo and his apache imps, ten of us camped in the moggollon mountains. hot! well, you never knowed anything like it. all day long the metal of our guns would blister our naked hands; we didn't get a drop of water from sunup till sundown; we was close on to the trail of the varmints, and we kept at it by moonlight till our horses gave out and we tumbled out among the rocks so used up that we could hardly stand. our lieutenant was a bright young chap from south car'lina that had come out of west point only that summer, but he was true blue and warn't afeared of anything. we all liked him. i had seen him fight when a dozen of the apaches thought they had us foul, and i was proud of him. he belonged to a good family, though that didn't make him any better than anyone else, but he treated us white.

"so when we went into camp, i goes to him and i says, says i, 'lieutenant, there's going to be trouble.' he looked up at me in his pleasant way and asks, 'what makes you think so, grizzly?' the others was listening, but i didn't mind that, and out with it. ''cause,' says i, 'my left leg tells me so.'

"'and how does your leg tell you?' he asked again, with just a faint smile that wasn't anything like the snickers and guffaws of the other chaps. 'whenever a twitch begins at the knee and runs down to my ankle,' says i, 'that is in the left leg, and then keeps darting back and forth and up and down, just as though some one was pricking it with a needle, do you know what it says?'

"'i'm sure i don't, but i'd like to know.'

"'injins! varmints! they're nigh you; look out!'

"wal, instead of j'ining the others in laughing at me, he says; just as earnest-like as if it was the colonel that had spoke, 'if that's the case, grizzly, why we'll look out; you have been in this business afore i was born and i am glad you told me. i didn't s'pose any of 'em was within miles of us, but it's easy to be mistaken.'

"wal, to make a long story short we didn't any of us go to sleep; the boys laughed at what i said, but the way the lieutenant acted showed 'em he believed me, and that was enough. the apaches come down on us that night and wiped out two of the boys. if the lieutenant hadn't showed his good sense by believing what i told him, there wouldn't have been one of us left."

budd hankinson then crossed his legs, extended on the ground as they were, shoved his sombrero back on his head, with his winchester resting against the rock behind him, and smoked his pipe after the manner of a man who is pondering a puzzling question. the latter assumed much the same position, but, having said sufficient, was not disposed to speak until after the other had given his opinion.

"grizzly, when your leg warns you like that, does it speak plain enough to tell you the sort of danger that's coming? does it say what hour; where the trouble is to come from, and who them that make the trouble will be?"

"no!" replied the other, contemptuously; "how could a fellow's leg do that?"

"how could it do anything 'cept help tote him around when he wanted it to?"

"i've just explained, that twitching is a warning—that's all. i 'spose the leg thinks that's enough; so it is."

"there ain't any apaches or comanches in this part of the world."

"but there's rustlers, and where's the ch'ice?"

"wal, grizzly, all i've got to say is let 'em come; it ain't the first time we've seen 'em, and we're ginerally ready for 'em. we was yesterday, and i reckon we'll get there, all the same, to-night or to-morrow morning."

grizzly weber felt it his duty to be more explicit.

"the night i was telling you about down in arizona wasn't the only time my leg signaled to me. while it allers means that something is going to come, it doesn't always mean it'll amount to much. it has happened that only a slight flurry follored. that may be the case to-night."

"what's to be done? are we to set here on the ground and wait for it? i was going to take turns with you watching, but i guess we hadn't better go to sleep yet."

"you can sleep till near morning if you like, and when i want to lay down i'll wake you, but afore you do that i'll take a look around."

weber rose to his feet, yawned, stretched his long, muscular arms, looked about him and listened. the moonlight enabled him to see only a comparatively short distance in any direction. near-by were the forms of several cattle stretched upon the ground and sleeping. one or two were still chewing their cuds, but the scene was suggestive of rest and quiet, the reverse of what he told his friend was coming.

the horses had drifted too far off to be visible, but it was certain they were within signal distance. rocks, stunted undergrowth, bushes, and the rich, luxuriant grass met the eye everywhere. thousands of cattle were scattered over an area of many acres, and, unless molested by dishonest persons, would be within ready reach when the time for the round-up arrived. neither eye nor ear could detect anything of the peril which the rancher believed impended with the same faith that he believed the sun would rise on the following morning.

that faith could not be shaken by the profound quiet. without speaking again to his friend he strolled toward the north, that is parallel with the spur along whose slope the cattle were grazing. as he moved forward they were continually in sight. most of them were lying on the ground, but a few were on their feet, browsing and acquiring the luscious plumpness which has made that section one of the most famous grazing regions of the union. they paid no attention to the rancher while making his way around, among and past them. they were too accustomed to the sight of the sturdy cattleman to be disturbed by him.

an eighth of a mile from the rock where he had left his comrade, weber once more paused. nothing as yet had come to confirm that peculiar warning described, but his faith knew no weakening on that account.

from a long way came the sound of rifle-firing, sometimes rapid, and sometimes consisting of dropping shots.

"they're at it somewhere," muttered the rancher; "it doesn't come from the ranch, so i guess the folks are all right."

the reports were too far off for him to feel any interest in them; that which was foretold by the twitching of his limb must come much closer to answer the demands of the occasion.

weber resumed his walk around and among the prostrate animals. he was on the alert, glancing to the right and left, and speculating as to the nature of the "trouble" that could not be far off.

through the impressive stillness he caught a subdued sound which caused him again to stop in his walk and listen. his keen vision could discover nothing, nor was he certain of the nature of the disturbance.

he knelt down and pressed his ear to the ground. that told the story; several hundred of the herd were in motion and moving away from him. they would not do this of their own accord, and the rancher translated its meaning at once; they were being driven off.

he broke into a loping trot toward the threatened point, holding his winchester ready for instant use. as he was likely to need his horse, he placed his fingers between his lips and emitted the whistle by which he was accustomed to summon the faithful beast. then he sent out a different call. that was for the listening ears of budd hankinson, who would be sure to hasten to his comrade.

but weber did not wait for man or animal. they could come as fast as they chose. the case was too urgent to admit of delay.

he believed the moving cattle were hardly a furlong distant, but they were not only going at a rapid pace, but were moving directly away from where the rancher had halted.

he could run as swiftly and as long as an indian, but the course was difficult, and he believed the cattle were going so fast that he was gaining little if anything on them. when he had run a short way he stopped and glanced impatiently back in the gloom.

"why doesn't cap hurry?" he muttered, referring to his horse; "he must have heard my call, and he never lets it pass him. budd, too, don't want to break his neck trying to overtake me."

his impatience made him unjust. neither man nor beast had had time to come up, even though each had set out at their best speed the moment they heard the signal. they would be on hand in due course, unless prevented.

weber called them again, with a sharp, peremptory signal, which could not fail to apprise both of the urgency of the case. then, afraid of losing any advantage, he pushed after the fleeing cattle. the figures of the sleeping animals around him grew fewer in number. by and by none was to be seen. he had passed the outer boundary of those that were left, and was now tramping over the section from which they had been stampeded or driven by the rustlers.

he dropped to the ground again. but it was only to use the earth as a medium of hearing. the multitudinous trampings became distinct once more. the cattle were running, proof that the thieves were pressing them hard and were in fear of pursuit.

leaping up again, the rancher peered backward in the moonlight. something took shape, and he identified the figure of a man approaching. the winchester was grasped and half aimed, so as to be ready for instant use.

but it was his friend, who was coming on the run. budd hankinson had heard the call, and obeyed it with surprising promptness.

"what's up?" he asked, as he halted, breathing not a whit faster because of his unusual exertion.

"they're running off some of the cattle; where's the hosses?"

"hanged if i know! i called to dick the minute i started, but he didn't show up; i don't know were he is."

"i whistled for cap at the same time i did for you; he ought to be here first. i wonder if they've stolen him?" added weber, affrightedly.

"no, they wouldn't have come that close; they didn't have the chance; but it gets me."

with that he sent out the signal once more. budd did the same, and then they broke into their swift, loping trot after the fleeing animals, both in an ugly mood.

they were at great disadvantage without their own horses when it was clear the rustlers were mounted. but, though on foot, the ranchers could travel faster than the gait to which the cattle had been forced. they increased their speed, and it was quickly evident they were gaining on the rogues.

it was not long before they discerned the dark bodies galloping off in alarm. almost at the same moment the ranchers saw the outlines of two horsemen riding from right to left, and goading the cattle to an injuriously high pace. grizzly weber, who was slightly in advance, turned his head and said, in excitement:

"budd, they're not rustlers; they're injins!"