fool and his money. When four and three-quarter minutes
had passed a turtle-dove alighted in the cottonwood. Then ensued an
impressive silence while Bill calmly pocketed the fifty dollars.

"But it hadn't the same dove!" exclaimed one outlaw, excitedly. "This
'n'is smaller, dustier, not so purple."

Bill eyed the speaker loftily.

"Wal, you'll have to ketch the other one to prove thet. Sabe, pard? Now
I'll bet any gent heah the fifty I won thet I can scare thet dove with
one stone."

No one offered to take his wager.

"Wal, then, I'll bet any of you even money thet you CAN'T scare him with
one stone."

Not proof against this chance, the outlaws made up a purse, in no wise
disconcerted by Bill's contemptuous allusions to their banding together.
The stone was thrown. The dove did not fly. Thereafter, in regard to
that bird, Bill was unable to coax or scorn his comrades into any kind
of wager.

He tried them with a multiplicity of offers, and in vain. Then he
appeared at a loss for some unusual and seductive wager. Presently a
little ragged Mexican boy came along the river trail, a particularly
starved and poor-looking little fellow. Bill called to him and gave him
a handful of silver coins. Speechless, dazed, he went his way hugging
the money.

"I'll bet he drops some before he gits to the road," declared Bill.
"I'll bet he runs. Hurry, you four-flush gamblers."

Bill failed to interest any of his companions, and forthwith became
sullen and silent. Strangely his good humor departed in spite of the
fact that he had won considerable.

Duane, watching the disgruntled outlaw, marveled at him and wondered
what was in his mind. These men were more variable than children, as
unstable as water, as dangerous as dynamite.

"Bill, I'll bet you ten you can't spill whatever's in the bucket thet
peon's packin'," said the outlaw called Jim.

Black's head came up with the action of a hawk about to swoop.

Duane glanced from Black to the road, where he saw a crippled peon
carrying a tin bucket toward the river. This peon was a half-witted
Indian who lived in a shack and did odd jobs for the Mexicans. Duane had
met him often.

"Jim, I'll take you up," replied Black.

Something, perhaps a harshness in his voice, caused Duane to whirl. He
caught a leaping gleam in the outlaw's eye.

"Aw, Bill, thet's too fur a shot," said Jasper, as Black rested an elbow
on his knee and sighted over the long, heavy Colt. The distance to