rom a tree-limb. An' I'm in favor of a tree-limb for anybody who
won't tell."

"Yore shore gettin' some long-winded, Luby," remarked a tall man who
smoked a pipe, "an' likewise yore angry passions has run away with yore
sense. Yuh can't string a man up because he won't talk; 'cause if yuh do
we'll sick the deputy sheriff on yuh an' mebbe you'll go to jail."

The speaker rolled a droll, twinkling eye at Bissell and the whole
gathering burst into a great guffaw at his expense. This was all the more
effective since Bissell had decorated the outside of his vest with the
nickel-plated star of his authority.

At this sally he nearly had apoplexy and bawled out for a drink, which
somebody accommodatingly supplied from a flask, although such things were
rarely carried.

When the merriment had subsided a fourth man volunteered the opinion that,
although there was nothing that could force Bud to tell what he knew,
still, such a defiance of their organization should not go unpunished. The
fact that the cowmen were opposed to the entrance of sheep into the
territory was enough excuse, he thought, to make an example of Bud Larkin
and thus keep other ambitious sheepmen away from the range in this
section.

One after another of the men gave their opinions and finally lined up in
two camps, the first resolved on punishing Larkin in some manner, and the
second in favor of letting him go with a warning that he must take the
consequences if he ever attempted to walk any more sheep over the Bar T
range or any other range of the association.

As has been said, the right of justice and fair-dealing was the very
backbone of the cattle-raising industry, and owners depended almost
entirely upon other men's recognition of it to insure them any profits in
the fall.

For this reason six of the eleven men were in favor of letting Larkin go.
The matter rested with the majority vote and was about to be put to the
final ballot when Mike Stelton got on his feet and asked if he might put a
few questions.

Bissell, only too eager for any delay or interruption that might change
the sentiment of the majority, granted the request.

Stelton's dark face was illumined for a moment with a crafty smile, and
then he said:

"Yuh know a man by the name of Smithy Caldwell, don't yuh?"

"Yes," said Bud, cautiously, not seeing quite where the question might
lead.

"He was in that stampede with yuh, wasn't he?"

"Yes."

"He was one of the party sent