izers of the Falling Wall men were among trainmen, liverymen,
the clerks, the barbers and bartenders, and those who could be usually
counted as "agin the government."

Meantime, the element of mystery in the still unclosed tragedy of the
upper country concerned the disappearance of Hawk; and this naturally
centered about Laramie. None but he knew to a certainty the fate of
the redoubtable old cowboy, so long a range favorite. And whenever
Laramie appeared in town, speculation at once revived every feature of
the situation, and Kate Doubleday when she came to Sleepy Cat, whether
she would or not, could not escape the talk concerning the Falling Wall
feud.

Loyalty to her own and the intense partizanship of her nature, combined
to urge her to sympathize with the fight of the range owners against
the Falling Wall men. But in this attitude, Belle Shockley was a trial
to Kate. Belle would not drag in the subject of the fight but she
never avoided it; and Kate, even against her inclination, seemed
impelled to speak of the subject with Belle. She instinctively felt
that Belle's sympathies were with the other side; and felt just as
strongly in her impulsiveness, that Belle should be set right about
rustlers and their friends--meaning always, by the latter, Jim Laramie.
Belle, stubborn but more contained, clung to her own views. Though she
rarely talked back, the attempt to assassinate Laramie had intensified
everyone's feelings, and for days only a spark on that subject was
needed to fire more than one Sleepy Cat powder magazine. One afternoon
rain caught Kate in at Belle's and kept her until almost dark from
starting for home, and one magazine did explode.

The two women were sitting on the porch watching the shower. McAlpin
on his way uptown from the barn, had stopped at Belle's a moment for
shelter.

"I'll tell you, Kate," said Belle, after listening as patiently as she
could to what Kate had to say about the Falling Wall fight and its
consequences, "I like you. I can't help liking you. But the only
reason you talk the way you do is because you haven't lived in this
country long. You don't know this country--you don't know the people."

McAlpin nodded strongly: "That's so, that's true."

"I, at least, know common honesty, I hope."

"But you don't know anything at all of what you are talking about,"
insisted Belle, "and if you think I'm ever going to agree with you that
it was right for Van Horn and your fa