at he feared the very worst. A tree--a lariat--and he saw, in fancy, a
crowd of carrion swarming round his swinging body. He could conceive no
other object, and his nerves became racked almost to breaking pitch.

The real truth of the situation was beyond his wildest dreams. The
significance of the fact that this second attack was made against him
was lost upon the wretched man. He only seemed to realize with natural
dread that Retief--the terror of the countryside--was in this, therefore
the outcome must surely be the very worst.

At length the horses drew up at Lablache's lonely ranch. His nearest
neighbor was not within ten miles of him. With that love of power and
self aggrandisement which always characterized him, the money-lender had
purchased from the Government a vast tract of country, and retained
every acre of it for his own stock. It might have stood him in good
stead now had he let portions of his grazing, and so settled up the
district. As it was, his ranch was characteristic of himself--isolated;
and he knew that Retief could here work his will with little chance of
interference.

As Lablache was hoisted from the buckboard and set upon his feet, and
the gag was removed from his mouth, the first thing he noticed was the
absolute quiescence of the place. He wondered if his foreman and the
hands were yet sleeping.

He was not long left in doubt. Retief gave a few rapid orders to his
men, and as he did so Lablache observed, for the first time, that the
Breeds numbered at least half-a-dozen. He felt sure that not more than
four besides their chief had traveled with them, and yet now the number
had increased.

The obvious conclusion was that the others were already here at the time
of the arrival of the buckboard, doubtless with the purpose of carrying
out Retief's plans.

The Breeds moved off in various directions, and their chief and the
money-lender were left alone. As soon as the others were out of earshot
the raider approached his captive. His face seemed to have undergone
some subtle change. The lofty air of command had been replaced by a look
of bitter hatred and terrible cruelty.

"Now, Lablache," he said coldly, "I guess you're goin' to see some fun.
I ain't mostly hard on people. I like to do the thing han'some. Say
I'll jest roll this bar'l 'long so as you ken set. An' see hyar, ef
you're mighty quiet I'll loose them hands o' yours."

Lablache deigned no reply, but the other was as good as hi