So I go,"
he went on, still smiling in his impudent manner. "I look out. I see
the buckboard come down to the river. I know you come. I see from
there back"--he pointed away to the bush--"you talk with this man, an'
I wait. So!"

Diane was furious. Her gentle brown eyes flashed, and two bright
patches of color burned on her cheeks. The half-breed watched her
carelessly. Turning to Tresler she held out her hand abruptly.

"Good-night, Mr. Tresler," she said quietly. Then she chirruped to her
light-hearted mare and drove off.

Anton looked after her. "Sacre!" he cried, with a light shrug. "She is
so mad--so mad. Voila!" and he leisurely followed in the wake of the
buckboard.

And Tresler looked after him. Then it was that his thoughts reverted
to the scene in the saloon at Forks. So this was Anton--"Black"
Anton--the man who had slid into the country without any one knowing
it. He remembered Slum Ranks's words and description. This was the man
who had the great Jake's measure.

CHAPTER VII

WHICH DEALS WITH THE MATTER OF DRINK

Although the murder of Manson Orr caused a wide-spread outcry, it
ended at that in so far as the inhabitants of the district were
concerned. There were one or two individuals who pondered deeply on
the matter, and went quietly about a careful investigation, and of
these Tresler was the most prominent. He found excuse to visit the
scene of the outrage; he took interest in the half-breed settlement
six miles out from Mosquito Bend. He hunted among the foot-hills, even
into the obscurer confines of the mountains; and these doings of his
were the result of much thought, and the work of much time and
ingenuity; for everything had to be done without raising the suspicion
of anybody on the ranch, or for that matter, off it. Being a "green"
hand helped him. It was really astonishing how easily an intelligent
man like Tresler could get lost; and yet such was the deplorable fact.
Even Arizona's opinion of him sank to zero, while Jake found a wide
scope for his sneering brutality.

As the days lengthened out into a week, and then a fortnight passed
and nothing more was heard of Red Mask, the whole matter began to pass
out of mind, and gradually became relegated to the lore of the
country. It was added to the already long list of barroom stories, to
be narrated, with embellishments, by such men as Slum or the worthy
Forks carpenter.

The only thing that stuck in people's minds, and that on