of piercing eyes that flashed around the room
for the purpose of seeing and locating his possible enemies.

"Who is that?" asked Stella.

"That's Billy Sudden," answered Ted.

"And who is he?"

"Foreman at 'Cow' Suggs' ranch. That's the Suggs bunch of cow-punchers.
There'll be something doing here to-night."

"Why?"

"There are a lot of fellows in this part of the country who don't like
Billy, and some of them are liable to tread on his feet."

"Oh, is he quarrelsome?"

"No, Billy is the best sort of a fellow, but he won't let any one hobble
him. When he first went to the Dumb-bell Ranch, as the Circle-bar Circle
is called, they took him for a kid and tried to run over him. He kicked
them, then fired them, and they don't like him."

"Did you see him look around the room?"

"Yes, he has every man who is likely to make trouble for him spotted and
located. But we won't wait long enough to see the trouble. I never did
like trouble myself."

"Well, for a chap who gets into it as often as you do--"

"What's the trouble now, over there?" interrupted Ted, looking at the
door.

Around the entrance to the hall was a crowd of young town fellows led by
a youth named Wiley Creviss, the son of the local banker, a dissipated
and reckless young man, and a crowd of cow-punchers.

They were shoving some one here and there, making a punching bag of him,
at the same time laughing uproariously.

Just then Ted saw the head of Jack Slate in the mix-up.

"Excuse me," said Ted, turning to Stella. "Ben, take care of the ladies
until I return."

He strode across the floor toward the door.

As he neared it he heard Billy Sudden say:

"Be careful, there. That is one of Ted Strong's fellows."

"I don't care if it is," said some one. "I'd give it to Strong just as
hard if he was here."

"Here I am," said Ted, pushing through the crowd.

CHAPTER IV.

THE TROUBLE IS STARTED.

The crowd of men and youths opened out in front of Ted, and he strode
into the circle.

There he saw Jack Slate in a much disheveled condition, dressed in his
evening clothes.

Ted gasped as he stared for an instant at the youth from Boston.

He wanted to tell Jack that "it served him right," but that was not the
part of loyalty, and in the presence of the enemy it did not make any
difference to a broncho boy if his pard was right or wrong, if he was in
need of help.

"Where is the fellow who was going to throw me around?" asked Ted,