sufferers so far as the roan is concerned.'
`I was very fortunate,' Noreen replied, as he shook hands. `I hope you are not feeling any ill effects.'
`No damage,' smiled the other. `Hurt my pride, o' course; no man likes to be piled, especially with a pretty girl looking on.' Then turning to his host, he added, `That man o' yores seems to be able to handle him.'
`Reckon he's got the gift,' said the ranch-owner. `I've met up with Injuns who could do anythin' with horses.'
`Injun blood in him, shouldn't wonder,' said Tarman casually. He was watching Noreen closely as he spoke, having, in fact, purposely cast what he knew to be an aspersion on the cowboy to see if she would resent it. There was, however, nothing but indifference in her tone when she replied: `I don't think so, but I believe he was brought up among Indians and horses.'
Tarman was pleased--evidently the girl was not interested in that quarter. 'Talkin' of Injuns,' he said. `I hear they've been pesterin' yu some.'
`We've all been losin' cattle,' Simon replied, and let it go at that. He was not the man to tell all his business to a stranger. The conversation drifted from the Y Z to the country around it, and then further afield to other towns and territories. Tarman had travelled much, both East and West, and he spoke well. When he chose he could be very entertaining, and the girl found herself listening to him with an interest she had not expected to feel. Seth Laban, chewing on a cigar, spoke only when appealed to by the bigger man, but his cunning eyes missed nothing.
Down at the bunkhouse the visitors were the chief topic of conversation, and the story of what had happened in town was told over again as each member of the outfit drifted in. Dirty was the proud purveyor of the news, for happening to find himself but a few miles from Hatchett's he could not resist the temptation to ride in and take a `smile' with Silas. That worthy was not, however, to be lured into expressing any opinion on the newcomers; they seemed likely to be good customers.
The younger men made no secret of their delight over the roan's victory; they knew nothing to the discredit of Tarman, but he was a stranger, and had, they considered, tried to `run a blazer' on the Y Z. For the first time in its life the outlaw horse was popular on the ranch.
`I'd give a month's pay to 'a' bin there,' said Simple, regretfully, `an' I ain't goin' to cuss that hoss no more, though he did damn near turn me inside out when I rid him.'
`When yu what?' asked Ginger sarcastically.
`Well, I stayed with him as long as yu did anyways,' defended Simple. `Though I'm admittin' that ain't much to say.'
The foreman, who with some of the older hands had taken no part in the discussions, now looked up and said, `By all accounts, this feller stayed in the saddle longer than any o' yu.'
`Any of us, yu mean, Rattler,' corrected Larry. `Don't be so damn modest.'
`Awright, have it yore own way, on'y I ain't claimin' to have rid the boss at all,' retorted the foreman. `I was goin' to say it might not pay to be too fresh about this stranger--he may be yore boss yet, if he buys the range.'
`Buyin' the range don't mean buyin' the outfit,' said Ginger.
`Me, I don't work for a feller who'd shoot a hoss because it throwed him.'
`Huh ! What's he wantta buy the range for when he can marry Miss Norry an' get it for nothin'?' asked Dirty disgustedly. 'Lo, Green.'
The owner of the roan had entered the bunkhouse just in time to hear Dirty's remark, and to catch an extraordinary expression of alarm and anger which it produced on the face of Blaynes.
`Marry hell,' the foreman exploded. `Where'd yu hear that fine tale?'
`Didn't hear it nowhere--thought it all out for myself,' retorted Dirty. `Why, it's as plain as yore face.'
Rattler ignored the insult and the almost general snigger which followed it; his mind was full of another problem altogether, one that promised to give him plenty to think about. Meanwhile, Green was receiving the congratulations of his friends, and trying to answer a dozen questions at once.
`Say, Green, what would yu 'a' done if he'd shot the hoss?' inquired one.
`Sent him chasin' it,' came the quiet reply.
A sneering laugh came from Blaynes, but he said nothing, and the entry of the cook with a huge dish of fried steaks diverted the interest of all into a more personal direction. Ginger, having forked a slab of meat to his plate, added three or four potatoes, grabbed a hunk of bread and set to work like a famished man.
`Cripes ! My appetite's that keen I could shave with it,' he mumbled.
`Pity yu didn't,' said Dirty, with a meaning glance at the stubble on the other's chin.
`Would have if yu hadn't used all the soap, yu mud-heap,' renorted Ginger, at the imminent risk of choking himself. `Shove over the sweetenin' if yu can spare any; don't yu like coffee with yore sugar?'
Dirty did not reply; he was too busy. He knew perfectly well that the man who dallied over his meal at the Y Z was liable to miss something. He was also aware that on this particular evening there was pie to follow, and he was aiming to be ready for it when it arrived, for the boys were fonder of eating pie than cookie was of making it.
The meal over, Green drifted outside, where he was soon joined by Ginger. Though usually his cheerful self, the redheaded one, since the passing of Bud, had suffered from occasional brooding spells, when no word could be got out of him.
`Yu still tellin' me not to start for the Reservation?' he said abruptly.
`I reckon I am,' Green replied. `Know anybody round here that used one o' these?'
He produced the cigarette-maker and passed it to the cowboy, who examined it curiously, and shook his head. `Never seen anythin' like it afore,' he said. `Where'd yu get her?'
`Found it in the grass beside Bud,' replied Green.
`It warn't his, an' I guess an Injun wouldn't have no use for it,' said Ginger. `What's yore idea?'
`I'm tellin' yu, but yu gotta keep it all behind yore teeth,' Green said, and proceeded to explain his theory as to the identity of the rustlers. `Now,' he added, `I asked Higgs, the storekeeper, if he sold contraptions o' this kind an' he said he never had. That was a bit ago. I was in his place this mornin' buyin' the makin's, an' he told me he'd had an inquiry for a cigarette-makin' machine, feller called Mex, who rides for Dexter. Know anythin' about him?'
Ginger swore luridly between his clenched teeth and his face hardened. `That dirty coyote,' he said. `Funny, but I thought of him when we found Bud, but I couldn't connect him up nohow. Him an' Bud had a little argument 'bout three months ago, an' Bud beat him no the draw an' whanged him over the head with his gun 'stead o' beefin' him proper. He claims to be white, but I reckon he's nhree parts Greaser an' the other part dog. He's lived in the East--I've heard him braggin' about it--an' he likely picked up that affair there. Me, I'm ridin' into town now; he may be there.'
`I'll go along,' Green said.
The red-headed puncher slipped the tell-tale little machine into the pocket of his chaps and led the way to the corral. It did not take long to saddle the horses, and soon they were trotting side by side along the trail to the town. All the youth had gone out of Ginger's face, which was set with determination. Green did not talk. He knew that a tragedy impended but he would not lift a finger to prevent it; he had come merely to see that his friend got fair play. They had not gone more than a mile when they heard the thud of hoofs from behind, and in a moment another rider joined them. It was Snap.
`Yu fellers mind if I trail along to town with yu?' he asked. `I gotta see a man about a dog. What's takin' yu in, Ginger?'
`I want to see a dog about a man,' the red-head replied grimly, and there was no smile on his lips.
The gunman made no comment and the ride was continued in silence. When they reached the town, the evening festivities were in full swing. From the dance-hall next to the hotel came the wail of a fiddle, and outside the Folly at least a dozen ponies were hitched, several bearing the Double X brand. The three men added theirs to the number and walked into the saloon.
Green led the way to the bar, and returning the greeting of Silas, ordered a round of drinks. Then he took a general survey of the room. It was fairly full; a few men were lounging against the bar, but the majority of those present were grouped around the several tables at which cards were being played. At one of these Tarman, his satellite Laban, Poker Pete, and Rayne were engaged in a game of poker. The gambler gave Green one swift look
