the job."



CHAPTER III


Transley and Linder were so early about on the morning after their
conversation with Y.D. that there was no opportunity of another meeting
with the rancher's wife or daughter. They were slipping quietly out of
the house to take breakfast with the men when Y.D. intercepted them.

"Breakfast is waitin', boys," he said, and led them back into the room
where they had had supper the previous evening. Y.D. ate with them, but
the meal was served by the Chinese boy.

In the yard all was jingling excitement. The men of the Y.D. were
fraternally assisting Transley's gang in hitching up and getting away,
and there was much bustling activity to an accompaniment of friendly
profanity. It was not yet six o'clock, but the sun was well up over the
eastern ridges that fringed the valley, and to the west the snow-capped
summits of the mountains shone like polished ivory. The exhilaration in
the air was almost intoxicating.

Linder quickly converted the apparent chaos of horses, wagons and
implements into order; Transley had a last word with Y.D., and the
rancher, shouting "Good luck, boys! Make it a thousand tons or more,"
waved them away.

Linder glanced back at the house. The bright sunshine had not awakened