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 to do and he was so slow in making the first move that his nephew thought he had forgotten about the floaters.

But one evening shortly after dark, without warning, the Ganzer family were suddenly attacked by eight or ten Indians, or at least they looked like Indians. They were generously smeared with war paint, wore sumptuous headdresses, and gorgeous blankets, and their feet were clad in moccasins, and they yelled in true redskin style.

The Ganzer family retreated to their cabin and replied in a desultory manner to the hail of bullets which spattered upon the chimney of their cabin and splintered the door posts, but did no other harm. During the melee the bars of the corral were let down and the two horses and the three cows were driven away. They were not lost permanently, but were found the following day two or three miles down Crooked Creek.

The ruse might have worked had it not been for an unfortunate episode in the attack. One of the redskin's horses was killed by a lucky shot from the little German and the rider fled in haste.

The Ganzer family found on examining the dead horse the following morning that he bore the tell-tale C C R with the encircling barbed wire fence which was the brand of the Crooked Creek ranch.

The next morning a little after sunup the little German accompanied by three of his stalwart sons ap-