n I would shoot from ambush
anyhow."

"Wouldn't you? I would," The jaw of the younger man snapped tight.
"What chance did they give poor Tim, I'd like to know? He was one of the
best-hearted pilgrims ever rode up the trail, an' they shot him down like
a coyote. I'm goin' to even the score."

"Don't you, Jim; don't you." Billie laid a hand on the shoulder of his
partner in adventure. "Because they don't fight in the open is no reason
for us to bushwhack too. That's no way for a white man to attack his
enemies."

But the inheritance from feudist ancestors was strong in young Clanton.
He had seen a comrade murdered in cold blood. All the training of his
primitive and elemental nature called for vengeance.

"No use beefin', Billie. You don't have to go if you don't want to. But
I'm goin'. I didn't christen myself Jimmie-Go-Get-'Em for nothin'."

"Put it up to Webb first. Let's hear what he has got to say about it,"
urged Prince. "We've all got to pull together. You can't play a lone hand
in this."

"I'll put it up to Webb when I've done the job. He won't be responsible
for it then. He can cut loose from me if he wants to. So long, Billie.
I'll sleep on Peg-Leg Warren's trail till I git him."

"Give up that fool notion, Jim. I can't let you go. It wouldn't be fair
to you or to Webb either. We're all in this together."

"What'll you do to prevent my goin'?"

"I'll tell the old man if I have to. Sho, kid! Let's not you an' me have
trouble." Billie's gentle smile pleaded for their friendship. "We've been
pals ever since we first met up. Don't go off on this crazy idea like a
half-cocked hogleg."

"We're not goin' to quarrel, Billie. Nothin' to that. But I'm goin'
through." The boyish jaw clamped tight again. The eyes that looked at his
friend might have been of tempered steel for hardness.

"No."

"Yes."

Clanton was leaning against the rump of his horse. He turned, indolently,
gathered his body suddenly, and vaulted to the saddle. Like a shot he was
off into the night.

Billie, startled at the swiftness of his going, could only stare after
him impotently. He knew that it would be impossible to find one lone
rider in the darkness.

Slowly he walked back to the grave. The riders of the Flying V Y were
gathered round in a quiet and silent group. They were burying the body of
him who had been the gayest and lightest-hearted of their circle only a
few hours before.

As soon as the last shovelful of earth had b