no law to sustain the action of the Kansas cattlemen, while he felt that justice and fair-dealing made a strong plea for the Texas drover who had herded his cattle more than a thousand miles to come to a market outlet.
It was base injustice to turn him back. If one man's arm and gun could be of any use to the Texan, Dunham was in the proper frame of mind to serve.
Dunham encountered the Texas cattle much nearer the line than he had expected. From the lolling, unconcerned, unprepared attitude of the men who had gathered at the line to repel them, he had thought the Texans at least a day or two away. They were not more than five miles south of the river, where they apparently had ended that day's march. The cattle, to the number of many thousand, it appeared to Dunham, were spread out grazing, cowboys on the edges of the herd holding them in compact formation, which the luxuriant grass of that section permitted.
Bill headed for the nearest of these herdsmen, who faced his horse around to watch his approach with suspicious attention. This young man returned a civil reply to Bill's friendly greeting, although he was bristling with hostile suspicion. On Dunham's inquiry for the boss, he pointed out a man riding toward the chuck-wagon, which was anchored on a knoll a quarter-mile or so to the south of the trail.
This man also squared around in the same suspicious fashion when he saw Dunham making a line for him. He passed greetings reservedly, a look of stern inquiry in his direct gray eyes.
Dunham introduced himself, to be told by the boss
