o weapon there he turned and sought it, finding it, and returning to a
point near the young man, the weapon in hand. As he halted there was
another movement and the half-breed was on his feet and dragging at his
revolver. The young man crouched, prepared to spring, and the big man
spoke sharply to the half-breed.

"Quit it!" he said, snarling. "Mind your own business!" Then he seemed
to realize that the half-breed had been worsted also, for he looked at
the latter, saw the dust on his clothing and grinned expressively.

"So he got you too, did he, Yuma?" His heavy features wreathed into a
mocking sneer as he faced the young man.

"Knocked me down!" he said in a silky, even voice. "Knocked me cold with
a punch. Knocked Yuma Ed down too!" He took another step toward the
young man and surveyed him critically, his eyes glinting with something
very near amusement. Then he stepped back, laughing shortly.

"I ain't shooting you," he said. "I've got an idea that you and me will
meet again." There was an ominous threat in his voice as he continued:
"Shooting you wouldn't half pay you back. Mark that, young man--shooting
you wouldn't half pay you back."

He stepped away from the young man, motioning the other men into the
door through which they had emerged to come to his assistance, and they
filed slowly in without protest. The big man paused long enough to look
again at the young man.

"Knocked me down!" he said as though scarcely able to realize the truth;
"knocked me cold with a punch!" He laughed, his coarse features twisting
into an odd expression. "Well, I'll be damned!" He turned abruptly and
disappeared through the door through which the other men had gone.

For an instant the young man stood, looking after him. Then he turned
and saw the young woman, standing near her pony, regarding him with
grave eyes.

"Thank you," she said. He caught a flashing smile and then she was in
the saddle, loping her pony down the street toward the station. For a
moment the young man looked after her and then with a smile he returned
to his suit cases and was off down the street toward the courthouse,
which he saw in the distance.

CHAPTER II

THE RULE OF CATTLE

The courthouse was a low, one-story redbrick building, sitting well back
from the street. It was evidently newly built, for an accumulation of
debris, left by the workmen, still littered the ground in the vicinity.
A board walk led from the street to the wide,