n Lawler step down from the gallery.

Blackburn was of medium height, swarthy, with heavy brows under which
were keen, deep-set eyes. His mouth was big, expressive, with a
slightly cynical set in repose.

"We're hittin' the trail in about an hour," said Blackburn. "Are you
wantin' me to put 'em through, or are we takin' two days to it, as
usual?"

"Two days," advised Lawler. "There's no hurry. It's a bad trail in
spots, and they'll want to feed. They'll stand the trip on the cars
better if they've had plenty of grass."

"Gary Warden is keeping Lefingwell's agreement with you, I reckon?"
asked Blackburn. He eyed Lawler intently.

"Of course." Lawler caught the expression of his foreman's eyes, and his
brows drew together. He added: "Why do you ask?"

"Just wonderin'," hesitated Blackburn; "just wonderin'. You seen this
here man, Warden?"

Lawler had not met Warden; he had not even seen the man from a distance.
That was because he had not visited Willets since Warden had bought
Lefingwell's ranch and assumed Lefingwell's position as resident buyer
for a big eastern live-stock company. Lawler had heard, though, that
Warden seemed to be capable enough; that he had entered upon the duties
of his position smoothly without appreciable commotion; he had heard
that Warden, was quiet and "easy-going," and that as a cattle buyer he
seemed to "know his business."

This information had reached Lawler's ears through the medium of
neighboring cattle owners, and he was willing to accept it as accurate,
though he was not prepared to form an estimate of Warden until he had
an opportunity to talk with him personally.

"Well," went on Blackburn; "them that's looked him over don't hesitate
to say he don't measure up to Jim Lefingwell's size."

"Jim was a mighty big man--in size and principles," said Lawler.

"Now you're shoutin'! There wasn't no man bigger'n Jim, sideways,
edgeways, or up an' down. I reckon any man would have a hard time
measurin' up to Jim Lefingwell. Mebbe that's what's wrong with Warden.
Folks has got Jim Lefingwell on their minds, an' they're not givin'
Warden what's comin' to him, them bein' biased." He squinted at Lawler.
"Folks is hintin' that Warden don't own Jim Lefingwell's ranch a-tall;
that some eastern guys bought it, an' that Warden's just managin' it.
Seems like they's a woman at the Lefingwell's old place, keepin' Warden
company. She's eastern, too, they say. Got a old maid with her to keep
her