lled up out of the past. He drank four cups of coffee, black
and sweetened at random, which steadied him a little. That he did not
offer Buck food or drink showed how intense was his hatred; as a rule,
your true range man is hospitable even to his enemies.

He rose and inspected the ropes to make sure that they were proof
against twisting, straining muscles, and took an extra turn or two with
the loose end, just to make doubly sure of the man's helplessness.

"Where did you leave your horse?" he asked him curtly, when he was
through.

Buck told him, his eyes searching Ward's face for mercy--or at least
for some clew to his fate--and dulling with disappointment because he
could read nothing there but loathing.

Without speaking again, Ward went out and closed the door firmly behind
him. He felt relieved to be away from Buck's presence. As he climbed
the bluff and mentally relived the last hour, he wondered how he had
kept from shooting Buck as soon as he saw him. Still, that would have
defeated his main purpose, which was to make Buck suffer. He was
afraid he could not make Buck suffer as Buck had made him suffer,
because there were obstacles in the path of a perfect retribution.

Ward was not cruel by nature; at least he was not more cruel than the
rest of us; but as he went after Rattler and Buck's horse, it pleased
him to know that Buck Olney was tied hand and foot in his cabin, and
that he was sick with dread of what the future held for him.

Ward was gone an hour. He did not hurry; there was no need. Buck
could not get away, and a little suspense would do him good.

Buck's face was pasty when Ward opened the door. His eyes were a bit
glassy. And from the congested appearance of his hands, Ward judged
that he had tested to the full his helplessness in his bonds. Ward
looked at him a minute and got out the makings of a smoke. His mood
had changed in his absence. He no longer wanted absolute silence
between them; instead, he showed symptoms of wanting to talk.

"If I turn you loose, Buck, what will you do?" he asked at last, in a
curious tone.

"If you--Ward, I'll prove I'm a friend to yuh in spite of the idea
you've got that I ain't. I never done nothing--"

"No, of course not." Ward's lip curled. "That was my mistake, maybe.
You always used to say you were my friend, when--"

"And that's the God's truth, Ward!" Buck's face was becoming flushed
with his eagerness. "I done everything I cou