inning. "I'll tell you this: they're
going to run off a hundred head or so of your stock yet this week for the
railroad camps up the State. I think it's fair to give you warning
beforehand."

"Darn you and your warning! What I want is the names and descriptions of
them men. Will yuh give 'em to me?"

"No, not unless we can strike a bargain. You talk about right and justice.
Now let's see a little of it," answered Larkin.

"All right, young feller, you've said your say. Now listen to me. I'm a
deputy sheriff in this county"--he ripped open his vest and showed the
badge pinned to the inside lining--"an' I hereby arrest yuh for bein' a
party to them rustlers. Yer either a criminal or yuh ain't, accordin' to
our notions out here, an' if yuh wun't help us catch yer friends there
ain't nothin' more to be said. Now roll that into a cigarette an' eat it
alive if yuh want to."

He glared defiantly down on Larkin, whose brows had drawn together as he
went into executive session with himself.

In five seconds the situation between these men was once more reversed. It
was not that Larkin had overreached himself; he simply had encountered a
circumstance of which he was unaware. The possibility of Bissell being a
deputy sheriff had never occurred to him, and now he sat balked and
perplexed, balancing his chances on either hand.

It was not in the man to yield supinely to this new danger. He could not
even think of the possibility without shame. He was right, he told himself
over and over again, and, listen as he would, he could detect no
contradictory reply from the still, small voice we are all credited with
possessing.

His mission in life was to get his sheep through. In that circumstance the
rustlers were unexpected allies and he hoped they would put burs under the
tails of every steer on the range and drive them to the Gulf of Mexico.
Once his merinos and angoras were safe across the line Bud would gladly
return and help round them up.

The idea that he, clipped, helpless, and harmless as he was, should now
turn in and assist his despoilers to better their own fortunes was so
maddening that he grinned with fury as he thought of it. No, the thing was
impossible!

Bissell had not changed his menacing position during all of Bud Larkin's
ponderings and was waiting patiently for some outbreak from his victim.
But at last he could stand it no more.

"Well," he snarled, "say something! What's your answer?"

"That bargain