“I want you to take them back south to the Badwater River,” ordered Larkin. “The second flock ought to be there by this time, but I want you to hold them there. In two days the boys from Montana ought to be down, and when you’re ready to start north you will have force enough to fight any bunch of cowboys old Bissell can scrape together.”
“But if we don’t move that flock out right away 121 the others will come and pile up there, and then we shore will have our hands full.”
“All right, let ’em pile up. We’ll get ’em through just the same. Now, Sims, we are in this thing for blood from now on, and don’t you forget it for a minute.”
“Trust me, boss,” drawled the herder. “Are you comin’ down to join us?”
“Yes, if I can. As soon as I get Miss Bissell into safe hands I’ll come. But don’t count on me; I may never get there. Do whatever you think best, but bring those sheep through. And tell the herders and the boys from the north that while this trouble is on I’ll pay them five dollars a day apiece.”
“Shore, they’d rassle the devil himself for that,” commented Sims.
“And you get ten,” supplemented Larkin. “Now go ahead and make all preparations the way you think best. Everything is in your hands.”
Sims faded from sight noiselessly, and Larkin hurried forward to overtake Juliet. They had not been together five minutes when the rapid trotting of horses was heard ahead and Larkin, taking the chance of falling into evil hands, called out to the travelers. 122
“Who’s there?” came a gruff voice, accompanied by the click of hammers drawn back.
“Oh, father, it’s I—Juliet!” cried the girl, recognizing the speaker and running toward him.