"But th' ship!" cried the chief herder.
"My rangers will put them off the Reserve, according to regulation," stated California John.
The Frenchman stared at him.
"W'at you do?" he gasped at last. "Where we go?"
"I'm going to put you off the Reserve, too, but on the west side," said California John. The old man's figure straightened in his saddle, and his hand dropped to the worn and shiny butt of his weapon: "No; none of that! Take your hand off your gun! I got the right to use necessary force; and, by God, I'll do it!"
The herder began a voluble discourse of mingled protestations and exposition. California John cut him short.
"I know my instructions as well as you do," said he. "They tell me to put sheep and herders off the Reserve without using unnecessary force; but there ain't nothing said about putting them off in the same place!"
Ross Fletcher rocked with joy in his saddle.
"So that's what you had up your sleeve!" he fairly shouted. "Why, it's as simple as a b'ar trap!"
California John pointed his gnarled forefinger at the herder.