dead horses, we found three men taking their last nap in the grass. I
recognized them as the boss-man, the fellow with the ha'r-trigger gun,
and a fool kid that had two guns on him when we were crossing their
cattle the day before. One gun wasn't plenty to do the fighting he was
hankering for; he had about as much use for two guns as a toad has for
a stinger.

"The boys got the saddles off the dead horses, and went flying back to
our men afoot, and then rejoined us. The fight seemed over, or there
was some hitch in the programme, for we could see them hovering
near their wagon, tearing up white biled shirts out of a trunk and
bandaging up arms and legs, that they hadn't figured on any. Our herd
had been overlooked during the scrimmage, and had scattered so that
I had to send one man and the horse wrangler to round them in. We had
ten men left, and it was beginning to look as though hostilities had
ceased by mutual consent. You can see, son, we didn't bring it on. We
turned over the dead steer, and he proved to be a stray; at least he
hadn't their road brand on. One-eyed Jim said the ranch brand belonged
in San Saba County; he knew it well, the X--2. Well, it wasn't long
until our men afoot got a remount and only two horses shy on the first
round. We could stand another on the same terms in case they attacked
us. We rode out on a little hill about a quarter-mile from their
wagon, scattering out so as not to give them a pot shot, in case they
wanted to renew the unpleasantness.

"When they saw us there, one fellow started toward us, waving his
handkerchief. We began speculating which one it was, but soon made him
out to be the cook; his occupation kept him out of the first round.
When he came within a hundred yards, I rode out and met him. He
offered me his hand and said, 'We are in a bad fix. Two of our crowd