nchers who ride in the dark with rustlers! I've a hunch Fairdale is
full of them. Now, Laramie, you've been here for years. Sure you must
know a couple of men above suspicion."

"Thank God I do," he replied, feelingly. "Frank Morton an' Si Zimmer, my
friends an' neighbors all my prosperous days, an' friends still. You
can gamble on Frank and Si. But if you want advice from me--don't invest
money in stock now."

"Why?"

"Because any new feller buyin' stock these days will be rustled quicker
'n he can say Jack Robinson. The pioneers, the new cattlemen--these
are easy pickin' for the rustlers. Lord knows all the ranchers are easy
enough pickin'. But the new fellers have to learn the ropes. They don't
know anythin' or anybody. An' the old ranchers are wise an' sore. They'd
fight if they--"

"What?" Duane put in, as he paused. "If they knew who was rustling the
stock?"

"Nope."

"If they had the nerve?"

"Not thet so much."

"What then? What'd make them fight?"

"A leader!"

"Howdy thar, Jim," boomed a big voice.

A man of great bulk, with a ruddy, merry face, entered the room.

"Hello, Morton," replied Laramie. "I'd introduce you to my guest here,
but I don't know his name."

"Haw! Haw! Thet's all right. Few men out hyar go by their right names."

"Say, Morton," put in Duane, "Laramie gave me a hunch you'd be a good
man to tie to. Now, I've a little money and before I lose it I'd like to
invest it in stock."

Morton smiled broadly.

"I'm on the square," Duane said, bluntly. "If you fellows never size up
your neighbors any better than you have sized me--well, you won't get
any richer."

It was enjoyment for Duane to make his remarks to these men pregnant
with meaning. Morton showed his pleasure, his interest, but his faith
held aloof.

"I've got some money. Will you let me in on some kind of deal? Will you
start me up as a stockman with a little herd all my own?"

"Wal, stranger, to come out flat-footed, you'd be foolish to buy cattle
now. I don't want to take your money an' see you lose out. Better go
back across the Pecos where the rustlers ain't so strong. I haven't had
more'n twenty-five hundred herd of stock for ten years. The rustlers let
me hang on to a breedin' herd. Kind of them, ain't it?"

"Sort of kind. All I hear is rustlers, Morton," replied Duane, with
impatience. "You see, I haven't ever lived long in a rustler-run county.
Who heads the gang, anyway?"

Morton looked at Duane with