Standing near the corral watching the breathless sunset as day becomes night, the cowhands are anxiously awaiting the news. The foreman comes out of the bunkhouse with Clay Grainger not far behind him. Clay waves his hand at the boys and heads to the house. The Virginian clears his throat as he walks up to Trampas standing the closest to him. "I know how much you fellas need a day off, but until this ordeal with the Flanigans is over I'm afraid you need to take your down time right here,"

Wilbur B. Flanigan bought the land northeast of them. He broke the trust of all the ranchers around the area by clear cutting mountain tops and damming up streams to serve as a holding area for his logs. The biggest threat is his plan to build a headquarters there for his paper mills he has scattered across three states. Nebraska and Colorado clamped down on his aggressive destruction and Wyoming must take its turn now and soon.

Earlier that day cattle was stampeded on open range. Shiloh had the biggest loss as their stock had not been thinned out in quite some time. Now every hand was needed to find them. Their neighbors work with them. They have cattle missing, too.

The next morning cowhands from the other ranches gather at Shiloh for instructions. Clay Grainger is standing by the steps leading to the roadway which runs between the barn and the bunkhouse watching the men wandering aimlessly. "Hey, you fellas gonna come over here so the Virginian can tell you where he needs you to go? We have to get going on this right away you know if we are to get our beef back together." He was very upset and now getting help together was nearly as difficult as rounding up the cattle.

The Virginian serious suggests, "Here's what we need to do. I've already sent most of our hands out on the eastern plain. Trampas will show you were we lost a bunch the last time this happened south of there and I'll head back up toward Flanigan's. I still think it had to be one of them timber-jacks responsible for the stampede. Maybe I can find some answers and hopefully some of our strays."

Dust flies as the galloping horses head away from Shiloh. Holly comes out of the house. "Clay, you think we should pack a second chuck wagon? Liz and I can tend to it if you need us to."

Clay shakes his head, "I think they'll be fine with one. With any luck they won't be gone all that long." He climbs on his horse. "I'm just going to look around. I'll be back in a few hours." He rides north.

Several hours have passed and Holly is worried. "Seems like someone would be coming back by now, I hope they aren't out all night."

Elizabeth hands her Aunt a cup of tea. "Drink this it should calm your nerves I borrowed a little brandy from Uncle Clay's study."

Holly laughs. "At least it will help make me think of something else. My! What would the ladies at the church think of us?"

Meanwhile the Virginian is listening to the commotion just below his hillside look out. "Easy, Joe. You'll be fine ole boy." He pats his four-legged friend on the neck and tightens his reins. Loud echoes from crashing timber and cries from startled wildlife surely was enough to frighten anything especially a mounted rider descending down the hill toward it. This rider however wasn't that easy to scare off. The Virginian knew what kind of men he was dealing with and one of them was an old friend of his that Flanigan just might be sorry he hired before this mess is over and done with.

As the Virginian nears the lumberjacks, he notices a large corral made of limbs and branches still bearing leaves and inside this construction was something he was not prepared to see. Inside this corral was several work horses so frail their rib cages shown like a wash board. How could anyone not see their animals taken better care of than this?

The Virginian wanted answers and he wants them now. He slowly approaches the work crew and lets them know he is there by firing a shot in the air. "Who's running this outfit? It's bad enough you have scared off half our cattle. Now I see you can't even take care of your own animals. What kind of people are you?"

A big ox of a man with bulging muscles and a patch over his eye speaks up. "Come any closer mister and you will see what we are. I'm in charge here. What's on the other side of the mountain is none of our concern."

The Virginian warned, "You better make it your concern because there's going to be hell to pay if any more cattle get chased off their grazing ground. Flanigan knows he has no rights in clear cutting here without permission or for not giving fair knowledge of his intentions to the area ranchers."

Back at Shiloh Clay and the cowhands have just returned. Trampas's group recovers most of the herd leaving a fair amount back on open range. Trampas is concerned the foreman has not returned. "Think I should ride out that way, Sir? The ramrod could need help." Clay shakes his head, "Better get yourself some rest. If he's not back by daybreak you can go find him, but I know he likes us to give him room to do things his own way first." Trampas agrees and heads to the bunkhouse.

When daybreak comes and the Virginian has not returned to Shiloh, Clay tells Trampas to go find him and take a couple boys with him. It really wasn't anything to worry about, but caution couldn't hurt anything.

Meanwhile the Virginian had just picked up his bedroll and was preparing to get on back to Shiloh when he ran across his old friend Buck Langsting.

Buck smiled and patted his friend on the back. "I can't believe it's you. What did you do stay the night up here? We got a bunk house half a mile from here. It would have been better sleeping."

The Virginian shakes his head, "Not likely I'd been welcome there. Say, you think you can help me? I really need a mutual friend of Flanigan's to talk him into moving his operation away from here."

Buck looks at him, "Not sure how I can help."

The Virginian said, "Would you at least go with me to talk to him? People can barely make ago of ranching or farming if their soil gets washed into the next state. Time, he strips these woods he'll have to move out again anyways. Seems to me it's in his best interest if he lets folks buy him off before he ruins their way of life."

Buck nods his head, "Well, I think he already got most of the big stuff and it's headed down stream. Guess, it won't hurt to try to convince him he's apt to make more money if he sells the ground to the local people."

The Virginian and Buck ride toward the lumber camp. The Virginian talks about the misused work horses he saw. "What about these horses? We should see if he'll leave them with us to fatten up. He can't expect big beast like that to survive without feeding them, can he?"

The men reach Flanigan's camp office which is only a tent rigged up to the side of a run-down bunk house The Virginian is furious by the time he meets Mr. Flanigan, after all just the thought of anyone abusing animals of any kind is reason to be upset. Not only is he worried about survival for the residence but he also worries about work horses.

Flanigan comes out from under the tent flap and sees Buck has brought a visitor with him. Flanigan warns, "If you're one of them cow punchers here to start a feud, we're ready for ya. Keep that sidearm strapped down if ya know what's good for ya."

The Virginian wrinkles his face with a frown that anyone could see he was furious. "I think you could at least hear what I have to say. Could be worth your while to listen to me."

Buck speaks up, "Sir, he does got some good ideas to solve everyone's problem. You could come away from this project richer than you thought."

Flanigan says, "Okay, step down." He motions for the two men to follow him to his office.

The discussion is tense, but when all is said and done, the Virginian and his friend Buck have convinced the lumber tycoon to see what offer the ranchers can make him. It is agreed that they all meet in Medicine Bow the following day.

Heading back toward Shiloh, the foreman catches up to his crew. He tells them to spread the word to the other ranches about the arranged meeting. He then goes to tell the Graingers what progress has been made.

Clay is excited, "We should be able to offer him much more than he could ever make from the logs that come from there. I certainly will contribute my share."

The Virginian says, "I knew you would."

The next day the town is buzzing, everyone meets at the town hall aka Danny's saloon. The bar is closed for the meeting and the sheriff is there to make sure everyone gets their say without fights breaking out.

"Mr. Flanigan," Clay begins, "I'm writing a number on a piece of paper. Each of us will. If the total is to your satisfaction, do we have a deal? The cattlemen here will share this property from now on."

The sheriff gathers the paper offers. Mr. Flanigan begins to add them together with the help of Danny the bartender.

Mr. Flanigan nods his head, "Fair enough. Give us a few days to clear out."

"One more thing," the Virginian asks, "Can we take those poor work horses off your hands? Can't see where they'd ever survive a long trip."

Mr. Flanigan apologies, "I'm sorry you had to see them. I never meant them to get that poor. I know I need to pay more attention to things like that. Too, busy trying to get rich, I guess."

The sheriff says, "You agree to leave them, then?"

Mr. Flanigan agrees, "Yes, sir. I'll let them loose to graze."

Clay says, "I'll send a couple of my boys over to head them to good eating."

The two men shake hands.

A few days later as the logging crew are about ready to leave, Buck comes to Shiloh to say his good bye to his old friend.

"You have a job right here, Buck if you're incline to stay." The Virginia really wanted him to stay.

Buck smiles, "Sounds tempting, but I better move on with Flanigan, guess I never mentioned I'm married to his daughter. Yeah, ten years now. We got six kids. All pretty like their momma. Reckon if I wasn't on these logging jobs so far from home maybe we'd be getting that son I wanted sooner."

"Oh, I see. Well, guess you better be getting back home then. Take good care of those young ladies." The Virginian chuckles.

Buck tips his hat to him, "Hey, you ever get out our way, look us up. Not far from the Black Hills. It's a little wild out there now, but getting tamer all the time. Take care, old buddy."

The Virginian waves good bye.