ne of them will be honest
men. All the same, some are better'n others. I've lived along the river
fer twelve years. There's three big gangs of outlaws. King Fisher--you
know him, I reckon, fer he's half the time livin' among respectable
folks. King is a pretty good feller. It'll do to tie up with him ant his
gang. Now, there's Cheseldine, who hangs out in the Rim Rock way up
the river. He's an outlaw chief. I never seen him, though I stayed once
right in his camp. Late years he's got rich an' keeps back pretty well
hid. But Bland--I knowed Bland fer years. An' I haven't any use fer him.
Bland has the biggest gang. You ain't likely to miss strikin' his place
sometime or other. He's got a regular town, I might say. Shore there's
some gamblin' an' gun-fightin' goin' on at Bland's camp all the time.
Bland has killed some twenty men, an' thet's not countin' greasers."

Here Stevens took another drink and then rested for a while.

"You ain't likely to get on with Bland," he resumed, presently. "You're
too strappin' big an' good-lookin' to please the chief. Fer he's got
women in his camp. Then he'd be jealous of your possibilities with a
gun. Shore I reckon he'd be careful, though. Bland's no fool, an' he
loves his hide. I reckon any of the other gangs would be better fer you
when you ain't goin' it alone."

Apparently that exhausted the fund of information and advice Stevens had
been eager to impart. He lapsed into silence and lay with closed eyes.
Meanwhile the sun rose warm; the breeze waved the mesquites; the birds
came down to splash in the shallow stream; Duane dozed in a comfortable
seat. By and by something roused him. Stevens was once more talking, but
with a changed tone.

"Feller's name--was Brown," he rambled. "We fell out--over a hoss I
stole from him--in Huntsville. He stole it fuss. Brown's one of them
sneaks--afraid of the open--he steals an' pretends to be honest. Say,
Buck, mebbe you'll meet Brown some day--You an' me are pards now."

"I'll remember, if I ever meet him," said Duane.

That seemed to satisfy the outlaw. Presently he tried to lift his
head, but had not the strength. A strange shade was creeping across the
bronzed rough face.

"My feet are pretty heavy. Shore you got my boots off?"

Duane held them up, but was not certain that Stevens could see them.
The outlaw closed his eyes again and muttered incoherently. Then he fell
asleep. Duane believed that sleep was final. The day passed, with D