. Ther'd bin
a feller come 'long from Alberta, a pretty tough Breed feller. He went
by the name o' 'Tough' McCulloch."

Tresler started. But Arizona was still staring out at the distant
prairie, and the movement escaped him.

"Guess he'd bin around the shack a heap," he went on, "an' the day
'fore I got back the two of 'em had drove out wi' the buckboard
loaded, takin' the trail fer the hills. I put after 'em, but never
found a trace. I 'lows the feller had guts. He left a message on the
table. It wus one o' his guns--loaded. Likely you won't understan',
but I kep' that message. I ain't see her sence. I did hear tell she
wus bakin' hash agin. I 'lows she could bake hash. Say, Tresler, I've
lost hogs, an' I've lost cows, but I'm guessin' ther' ain't nothin' in
the world meaner than losin' yer wife."

Tresler made no reply. What could he say? "Tough" McCulloch! the name
rang in his ears. It was the name Anton had been known by in Canada.
He tried to think what he ought to do. Should he tell Arizona? No. He
dared not. Murder would promptly be done, if he knew anything of the
American. No doubt the Breed deserved anything, but there was enough
savagery at Mosquito Bend without adding to it. Suddenly another
thought occurred to him.

"Did you know the man?" he asked.

"Never set eyes on him. But I guess I shall some day." And Tresler's
decision was irrevocably confirmed.

"And the 'gun' message?"

"Wal, it's a way they have in Texas," replied Arizona. "A loaded gun
is a mean sort o' challenge. It's a challenge which ain't fer the
present zacly. Guess it holds good fer life. Et means 'on sight.'"

"I understand."

And the rest of the journey to Willow Bluff was made almost in
silence.

The wonderful extent of the blind man's domain now became apparent.
They had traveled twenty miles almost as the crow flies, and yet they
had not reached its confines. As Arizona said, in response to a
remark from his companion, "The sky-line ain't no limit fer the blind
hulk's land."

Willow Bluff was, as its name described, just a big bluff of woodland
standing at the confluence of two rivers. To the south and west it was
open prairie. The place consisted of a small shack, and a group of
large pine-log corrals capable of housing a thousand head of stock.
And as the men came up they saw, scattered over the adjacent prairie,
the peacefully grazing beeves which were to be their charge.

"A pretty bunch," observed Arizona.

"Ye