s ear
cocked. Don't notice him if he looks you over, Buck. Benson is scared to
death of every new-comer who rustles into Bland's camp. An' the reason,
I take it, is because he's done somebody dirt. He's hidin'. Not from
a sheriff or ranger! Men who hide from them don't act like Jackrabbit
Benson. He's hidin' from some guy who's huntin' him to kill him. Wal,
I'm always expectin' to see some feller ride in here an' throw a gun on
Benson. Can't say I'd be grieved."

Duane casually glanced in the direction indicated, and he saw a spare,
gaunt man with a face strikingly white beside the red and bronze and
dark skins of the men around him. It was a cadaverous face. The black
mustache hung down; a heavy lock of black hair dropped down over the
brow; deep-set, hollow, staring eyes looked out piercingly. The man had
a restless, alert, nervous manner. He put his hands on the board that
served as a bar and stared at Duane. But when he met Duane's glance he
turned hurriedly to go on serving out liquor.

"What have you got against him?" inquired Duane, as he sat down beside
Euchre. He asked more for something to say than from real interest. What
did he care about a mean, haunted, craven-faced criminal?

"Wal, mebbe I'm cross-grained," replied Euchre, apologetically. "Shore
an outlaw an' rustler such as me can't be touchy. But I never stole
nothin' but cattle from some rancher who never missed 'em anyway. Thet
sneak Benson--he was the means of puttin' a little girl in Bland's way."

"Girl?" queried Duane, now with real attention.

"Shore. Bland's great on women. I'll tell you about this girl when we
get out of here. Some of the gang are goin' to be sociable, an' I can't
talk about the chief."

During the ensuing half-hour a number of outlaws passed by Duane and
Euchre, halted for a greeting or sat down for a moment. They were all
gruff, loud-voiced, merry, and good-natured. Duane replied civilly
and agreeably when he was personally addressed; but he refused all
invitations to drink and gamble. Evidently he had been accepted, in a
way, as one of their clan. No one made any hint of an allusion to his
affair with Bosomer. Duane saw readily that Euchre was well liked. One
outlaw borrowed money from him: another asked for tobacco.

By the time it was dark the big room was full of outlaws and Mexicans,
most of whom were engaged at monte. These gamblers, especially the
Mexicans, were intense and quiet. The noise in the place came fro