On the second morning three horses were missing, the next day two more, and on the next eight horses more were gone and several men were practically afoot.
"Who let those horses get away?" demanded Henry Lee, as he rounded up his night herders by the corral.
"Not me!" said the members of the first guard.
"We never stopped ridin'," said the second guard.
"They was gone when we come on," said the third guard.
And the fourth guard swore they were innocent.
"Well, somebody's been asleep—that's all I know!" said Henry Lee; and he sent off two mountain men on their best mounts to trail the runaways down and bring them back. Then he listened to the mutual recriminations of the night herders, and guessed shrewdly at who was at fault. For when the night herders get to quarreling among themselves, waking each other up ahead of time, and sleeping on one hand till it slips and wakes them up, that is a sure sign and precursor of greater troubles to come, and it calls for an iron hand. Even as he was listening, a row broke out in the round corral, where the cowboys were roping their mounts.
"Turn that hawse loose!" roared Brigham, suddenly mounting up on the fence.
"I will not!" retorted the voice of Hardy Atkins from within.
"He belongs to my mount!" protested Brigham with appropriate oaths.