"Not a hole in him," Billy told them. "He'll be all right in a minute."
Tuckleton laughed harshly. "He's due for a relapse about a minute after that. Jonesy, get your rope. That spruce up there on the flat will be fine."
Hazel uttered a gasp of horror.
"What do you expect to hang him for, Rafe?" demanded Billy.
"Caught him branding one of my calves," was the ugly reply. "Reason enough?"
"I don't believe it!" cried Hazel.
"You know him?" Rafe inquired contemptuously.
"I never saw him before in my life. But he doesn't look like a rustler. He's got a good face."
The Tuckleton outfit was moved to mirth.
"A good face!" yelped the fox-faced Ben Shanklin, slapping his leg. "A good face! That's a fine one!"