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elldng. It looked like they had not heeded Slaughter's words. They could be left imtil after the recovery of the cattle had been completed, but then Slaughter figured it was time he paid the Taggerts a visit.
    Leaving their boss to take care of Chisum, and fol-lov^ng his orders. Trace and Alvord turned and rode back through the line of their watching friends. They disappeared over a rim and after a couple of minutes four more of the crew rode dovra to the edge of the stream, splitting into pairs and halting their horses facing each other on either side of where the Long Rail herd would come ashore. None of the men held their rifles now, but sat relaxed in their saddles. One thing each man had in common was that he rode a fine horse, one that showed an alertness and intelligence in the very way it stood.

    Slowly the herd came down the slope on the south-em shore and entered the water. The stream had a gravel bottom at this point and flowed briskly, though not enough to give the cattle any fears about wading through. One advantage to the spot, from both tiie trail boss and Slaughter's point of view—^though for different reasons—^was that the herd could be brought across in line instead of each succeeding bunch needing to be hazed upstream to avoid the mud stirred up by the preceding animals as they waded through.
    On drinldng their fill, the cattle came ashore on the J.S. range, passing between the two pairs of watching cowhands. The Long Rail riders cast scowling glances first at the J.S. cowhands, then toward their boss as he sat his horse at Slaughter s side. Every man of the Long Rail crew guessed what was about to happen. It seemed that Slaughter s men were fixing to cut the herd.
    While Chisimi insisted that every trail herd which crossed his land be cut on entry and before leaving, the Long Rail crew never expected the same thing to happen to them. It was considered something of an insult to cut a trail herd even once; implying as it did that the men on the drive could not be trusted. That fact had never stopped Chisum, nor did it appear to be worrying Slaughter imduly.
    Although Slaughter had already booted his rifle, Chisxmi did not appear to be eager to take advantage of the Texan's relaxation. Instead Chisimi sat himched in his saddle, looking as mean as hell. If his face habitually wore such an expression, Chisum would never have duped so many folks into trusting him.
    Nothing happened for a time, except that the cattle came across the stream and passed between the watching men. Slaughter s hands lounged in their saddles and studied the passing animals, reading the brand each bore on its body. The Long Rail showed plain, a half-blind man could have seen it. Yet some of the cattle carried other brands. From what the four J.S. men saw, at least one in thirty of the Cattle King's herd had never seen his Bosque Grande range.

    Suddenly one of the men touched his horse's flanks lightly with his heels. The horse needed no further instructions, it moved forward, heading into the herd. Swinging his horse alongside a red and white steer, the rider twitched its reins and the horse started to move into the steer, crowding it gently but surely out of the crush around it. Once clear of the herd, the steer showed a desire to get back in again. Each time it swung around, the steer foimd the fast-moving horse between it and its goal.
    There were few more attractive sights than a well-trained cutting horse performing its work; nor better examples of teamwork between man and beast than existed between a cowhand and his cutting horse. Actually apart from showing the horse which animal he wanted cutting from the herd, the rider had little to do, for the horse handled the rest. Of course a man needed to be a rider of the first water if he aimed to stay afork the swiftly moving and turning horse and not be a liabiHty to the animal's working capabilities.
    After cutting out the red and white steer, the rider left it clear of the herd