time when chickens like
them 'ud come home to roost."

Checkers had intended to move off and leave him sitting there alone;
but he stopped long enough to light a cigarette (a thing which the old
man abominated) and listen to this last remark.

[Illustration: MR. BARLOW]

"_Now it's roostin' time_," continued Mr. Barlow with emphasis, "and
onless ye come down off'n th' high horse ye 're ridin', ye 're goin'
ter hear suthin' drap that 'll kinder put a crimp in that pride o'
yourn."

This was a new tone for him to take, and Checkers turned and looked at
him surprisedly.

"The fact is," he went on, "you ain't got no head for bizness, and it
's providential things hez come round so 's I kin run this place and
make what they is to be made out'n it." He looked up as though he
expected to be interrogated.

"What's your lay?" asked Checkers.

"Wal, the situation, ez near ez I kin figger it out, accordin' to law,
is this: _I owns this ranch_."

Checkers stood silent for a moment, and then laughed. "You owns it?"
he mimicked; "nit."

"This real estate," began Mr. Barlow dryly, as though repeating a
well-conned lesson, "with the house upon it, was owned in fee by Persis
Barlow Campbell at the time o' her death. Said Persis Campbell died
intestate and without issue, and accordin' to th' laws o' the State of
Arkansas all real and personal property standin' in her name, or
belongin' to her at th' time o' her death, reverts to her next o' kin,
who 's her father. Now, what d 'ye say?"

"It's a lie," exclaimed Checkers, trembling with anger at the thought
of so outrageous a thing.

"It 's th' gospel truth," said Mr. Barlow, trying in vain to hide the
look of satisfaction which sat upon his face. His words and the tone
of his voice carried conviction. This was the final blow; the crowning
evil. Checkers staggered under it. The house and the trees floated
before his eyes like a stifling vapor, but with a mighty effort he
gathered himself together.

"If this is so," he began, his voice hoarse with passion, "it's the
most ungodly outrage that ever--I 'm going down to ask Judge Martin if
that's the law. But let me tell you," he added, "law or no law, you
shall never live in this house while I 'm alive and able to shoot a
gun. Do you understand?"

The old man was silent.

"Do you understand?" repeated Checkers, more vehemently.

"Pp-tttt," said the old man, and this time the "devil's-horse" fell a
victim to its