othing.

"You are hard," said Moore, with his eyes upon me.

"Hard? Isn't it true?" I answered, hotly. "Then, there's his mother at
home."

"Yes, but can he help it? Is it all his fault?" he replied, with his
steady eyes still looking into me.

"His fault? Whose fault, then?"

"What of the Noble Seven? Have they anything to do with this?" His voice
was quiet, but there was an arresting intensity in it.

"Well," I said, rather weakly, "a man ought to look after himself."

"Yes!--and his brother a little." Then, he added: "What have any of you
done to help him? The Duke could have pulled him up a year ago if he had
been willing to deny himself a little, and so with all of you. You all
do just what pleases you regardless of any other, and so you help one
another down."

I could not find anything just then to say, though afterwards many
things came to me; for, though his voice was quiet and low, his eyes
were glowing and his face was alight with the fire that burned within,
and I felt like one convicted of a crime. This was certainly a
new doctrine for the West; an uncomfortable doctrine to practice,
interfering seriously with personal liberty, but in The Pilot's way
of viewing things difficult to escape. There would be no end to one's
responsibility. I refused to think it out.

Within a fortnight we were thinking it out with some intentness. The
Noble Seven were to have a great "blow-out" at the Hill brothers' ranch.
The Duke had got home from his southern trip a little more weary-looking
and a little more cynical in his smile. The "blow-out" was to be held
on Permit Sunday, the alternate to the Preaching Sunday, which was a
concession to The Pilot, secured chiefly through the influence of Hi
and his baseball nine. It was something to have created the situation
involved in the distinction between Preaching and Permit Sundays. Hi put
it rather graphically. "The devil takes his innin's one Sunday and The
Pilot the next," adding emphatically, "He hain't done much scorin'
yit, but my money's on The Pilot, you bet!" Bill was more cautious and
preferred to wait developments. And developments were rapid.

The Hill brothers' meet was unusually successful from a social point
of view. Several Permits had been requisitioned, and whisky and beer
abounded. Races all day and poker all night and drinks of various brews
both day and night, with varying impromptu diversions--such as shooting
the horns off wandering steers--were