Presently Bud and the other boys came winging back from breakfast, and
Ted told them of the plan for releasing the cattle, at the same time
praising Stella and giving her all the credit for the idea.
"Peevish peppers, but I'm a tenderfoot," grunted Bud. "Why in Sam Hill
didn't I think o' that myself? I reckon I'm gettin' too old fer ther cow
business. I ought ter be milkin' cows at some dairy farm."
The boys followed Stella's suggestion, and, leaping into the coulee,
wheeled their ponies about until they had a well-beaten road for several
hundred feet toward the west.
Then, cutting out a bunch of about fifty steers, led by a wise old
fellow, the herd leader, whom they called Baldy on account of the spot
of white hair between his horns, drove them along the path. After
getting the bunch going well, the boys drove them with yells and the
lashing of quirts into the deep snow ahead, and would not let them stop.
Another bunch was driven up, and soon there was a smooth road along the
bottom of the coulee to the open ground, over which the cattle passed to
safety.
Stella's good common sense had saved the herd.
CHAPTER III.
THE SIGN-CAMP GHOST.
As the last of the herd came out of the coulee to the open ground, a
cheer went up for Stella, who blushed rosy-red, and told the boys to
hush.
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