To avoid this loss, after the cattle were bedded down and the boys had turned in, Hall would go back along the trail three or four hundred yards, and tethering his broncho to his wrist, would crawl into his tarpaulin. The lowing of a straying steer never failed to awaken him, and he would rise and turn it back into the herd. Eight or ten other steers were picked up along the way, and they made up any loss that did occur, for in spite of the best of care, occasionally one will drop by the wayside.

Hall's old partner, Bean, had rounded up a smaller bunch on the North river, and had driven them from Camp Clarke to the Rosebud, and he was there when Hall arrived.

Mort Eberly, who was Hall's right hand man on the trip, later became inspector for the Wyoming Stock Association, and was stationed at Sheridan, from which place, in 1893, he went "the long trail."

William A. Paxton, whose family is now extinct, stood pre-eminent among Cattle Kings of all the early years. He would stand by his friends, even though it entailed personal losses through their weakness. He was unfaltering in fidelity. In some ways he was most diffident. I once witnessed a meeting between the Cow-premier and Roosevelt. Paxton was timid, and appeared ill at ease in the presence of Theodore, evidently looking up at the position of President, and had a consciousness of his own inferior position. Yet, I am sure there are others who join with me in the thought that in many ways Paxton was the greater of the two. And that takes nothing from the glory of Teddy Roosevelt.