ince the stampede he had been giving time to the consideration of
Smithy's strange actions that night. There was no love lost between the
two, that was certain, and why the blackmailer should risk his life to
defeat the rustlers and save the man he hated was beyond Bud's
comprehension.

But at last he arrived at a solution that removed all his doubts, and this
was that Smithy Caldwell had saved him for the same reason that the old
lady in the fairy story was told to preserve the goose.

"Kill the goose and there will be no more golden eggs," remarked the fairy
sagely, and evidently Caldwell was ready to heed her advice.

It certainly was worth the effort on Smithy's part, and even when Larkin
had finally discovered the man's sordid motives he felt a species of
admiration for the man's coolness and bravery. He felt, too, that, if he
could not get a grip on the blackmailer before another payment was
demanded, he could part with the money for the first time with the feeling
that Caldwell had partially earned it.

As to Caldwell's presence among the rustlers, that was another matter
entirely, and Larkin could not fathom the mystery. How Smithy, a low
Chicago tough, whose only knowledge of a horse had been gained by
observation, could so quickly become a trusted member of this desperate
gang of cattle-thieves he could not conceive. Was there some occult power
about the man--some almost hypnotic influence that passed his crossed eyes
and narrow features in that company?

Larkin gave it up. But he knew that, should he ever again get his full
liberty, his sheep safely across the range, and the leisure to pursue
rustlers, Mr. Smithy Caldwell of Chicago would be his especial prey. And
he grinned with anticipation at the glory of that moment when he should
have the blackmailer in his power with enough evidence to swing him.

Stelton was the one man of the whole Bar T outfit who had suffered from
the boomerang of his evil plans. It had been through him that Larkin was
forced to accompany Bissell home after the stampede; and now he passed
days and nights of misery, watching the progress of Bud's very evident
suit. Chained down by his daily round of duties, his time was not his own,
and with a green venom eating at his heart he watched the unfettered Bud
ride off across the plains with Juliet, laughing, care-free, and
apparently happy.

So greatly did this irk Mr. Stelton that his morose melancholy increased
to a point where h