Rustlin’ aint the healthiest occupation in the world. Reckon it’s the Radley boys, over in the Hole. That’s Jackson’s Hole proper, ma’am, over to the west there. Mebbe you’ve heard about Jackson’s Hole, ma’am, as a hangout for cattle thieves an’ such. Most folks think they hide in the Hole. But they don’t. Anybody can get into Jackson’s Hole. But when anyone comes, lookin’ for calves that’s been monkeyed with with a runnin’-iron, the boys jest draws back into the Tetons, where you cain’t find ’em in a thousand years.

“Them’s the Tetons over there, ma’am—them snaggle-toothed mountains that rise right up like a wall. The old French trappers named ’em, because they’re like a breastworks. Behind that big one, the Grand Teton, are half a dozen trails leadin’ out to Idaho. Many a posse’s quit cold, ma’am, when they come to the Tetons.”

“I understand. But isn’t it hard to steal a cow and drive her so many miles without being seen by some one?”

“They don’t have to drive ’em, ma’am—not on the open range. Jest slap a brand on a maverick, and leave him. Then come round-up time, when they’re sorted out, the man with that p’ticler brand gets his calf without bein’ asked no questions. No one hereabouts would think o’ keepin’ a calf with some one else’s brand on him.

“But even if he does start to drive a critter to his home range, who’s goin’ to interfere with a man drivin’ home a stray with his own brand on him? On the open range there aint no restrictions—’cept what the Gov’ment’s made right recently. The Gov’ment up an’ tells the cow-man that the open range aint open any more—that the Gov’ment owns it, an’ is goin’ to collect a grazin’-fee for every head of cattle on it.

“I never hearn tell of sech a thing, ma’am. Mebbe you don’t understand it, but it makes every cow-man boil. Ever since there was a cow in this country, the cow-men have used the open range without payin’ for it. How come the Gov’ment makes ’em pay now? Here’s scads of grazin’ land goin’ to waste. But the Gov’ment’s goin’ to have a real job on its hands, collectin’ grazin’-fees from these ranchers.”

Mariel failed to comprehend half of the old cow-hand’s tirade, and her expression showed it.

“But do the ranchers think they can oppose the Government successfully?”

“They can make it so hot that no ranger’ll dare come in here an’ try to collect grazin’-fees. It wouldn’t surprise me a mite, ma’am, if Ranger Fyffe, up at Red 

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