again before he heard an ominous sound
that made his heart leap. It was a frantic
dull pounding of hoofs. He knew in a
second what it meant. There was a stam-
pede among the cattle. If the animals had
all been his, he would not have lost his sense
of judgment. But the realization that he
had voluntarily undertaken the care of them,
and that the larger part of them belonged
to his friends, put him in a passion of appre-
hension that, as a ranchman, was almost in-
explicable. He did the very thing of all
others that no cattle-man in his right senses
would think of doing. Gillispie and Hender-
son, talking it over afterward, were never
able to understand it. It is possible -- just
barely possible -- that Waite, still drunk on
his solitary dreams, knew what he was doing,
and chose to bring his little chapter to an
end while the lines were pleasant. At any
rate, he rode straight forward, shouting and
waving his arms in an insane endeavor to
head off that frantic mob. The noise woke
the children, and they peered from the
window as the pawing and bellowing herd
plunged by, trampling the young steers
under their feet.

In the early morning, Catherine Ford, spent
both in mind and body, came walking slowly