dark and escaping before dawn, inflicting injuries on dumb animals in harassing their owners.  That it was the work of hireling renegades, more likely white than red, there was little question; but the necessity of preserving the range withheld us from trailing them down and meting out a justice they so richly deserved.  Dividing the ranch help into half a dozen crews, we rode to the burning grass and began counter-firing and otherwise resorting to every known method in checking the consuming flames.  One of the best-known devices, in short grass and flank-fires, was the killing of a light beef, beheading and splitting it open, leaving the hide to hold the parts together.  By turning the animal flesh side down and taking ropes from a front and hind foot to the pommels of two saddles, the men, by riding apart, could straddle the flames, virtually rubbing the fire out with the dragging carcass.  Other men followed with wet blankets and beat out any remaining flames, the work being carried on at a gallop, with a change of horses every mile or so, and the fire was thus constantly hemmed in to a point.  The variations of the wind sometimes entirely checked all effort, between midnight and morning being the hours in which most progress was accomplished.  No sooner was one section of the fire brought under control than we divided the forces and hastened to lend assistance to the next nearest section, the cooks with commissaries following up the firefighters.  While a single blade of grass was burning, no one thought of sleeping, and after one third of the range was consumed, the last of the incendiary fires was stamped out, when we lay down around the wagons and slept the sleep of exhaustion.

There was still enough range saved to bring the cattle safely through until spring.  Leaving the entire ranch outfit to ride the fences—­several lines of which were found cut by the renegades in entering and leaving the pasture—­and guard the gates, I took train and stage for the Grove.  Major Hunter had returned from the firm’s ranch in the Strip, where heavy losses were encountered, though it then rested in perfect security from any influence except the elements.  With me, the burning of the company range might be renewed at any moment, in which event we should have to cut our own fences and let the cattle drift south through an Indian country, with nothing to check them except Red River.  A climax was approaching in the company’s existence, and the delay of a day or week might mean inestimable loss.  In cunning and craftiness our enemies were expert; they knew their control of the situation fully, and nothing but cowardice would prevent their striking the final, victorious blow.  My old partner and I were a unit as to the only course to pursue,—­one which meant a dishonorable compromise with our enemies, as the only hope of saving the cattle.  A wire was accordingly sent East, calling a special meeting of the stockholders.  We followed ourselves within