down the valley, and will be cutting here within a day or two."

"The trout ought to bite on a fine evening like this," said Transley. "I
have an extra rod and some flies. Will you try a throw or two with me?"

"I would be glad to, but I must get back to camp. I hope you land a good
string," and so saying Grant remounted, nodded to Transley and again to
the men now scattered about the camp, and started his horse on an easy
lope down the valley.

"Well, what is it to be?" said Linder, coming up with the rest of the
boys. "War?"

"War if they fight," Transley replied, unconcernedly. "Y.D. said cut the
hay; 'spite o' hell an' high water,' he said. That goes."

Slowly the great orb of the sun sank until the crest of the mountains
pierced its molten glory and sent it burnishing their rugged heights. In
the east the plains were already wrapped in shadow. Up the valley crept
the veil of night, hushing even the limitless quiet of the day. The
stream babbled louder in the lowering gloom; the stamp and champing of
horses grew less insistent; the cloudlets overhead faded from crimson to
mauve to blue to grey.

Transley tapped the ashes from his pipe and went to bed.



CHAPTER IV