the
flocks. Wondering, he awaited the visitor's appearance.

The stranger presently made a bold and noisy entrance, and, when his face
came into view, Bud sank back in his chair weakly, his own paling a trifle
beneath the tan. For the man was Smithy Caldwell, a shifty-eyed crook from
Chicago, one who had dogged him before, and whom he had never expected to
see again. How the villain had tracked him to the Bar T outfit Bud could
not imagine.

Seeing the eyes of the others upon him, Larkin recovered himself with an
effort and introduced Caldwell; but to the eyes of even the most
unobservant it was plain that a foreign element of disturbing nature had
suddenly been projected into the genial atmosphere. The man was coarse in
manner and speech and often addressed leering remarks to Juliet, who
disregarded them utterly and confined her attention to Bud.

"Who is this creature?" she asked _sotto voce_. "What does he want with
you?"

Bud hesitated, made two or three false starts, and finally said:

"I am sure his business with me would not interest you."

"I beg your pardon," said the girl, rebuffed. "I seem to have forgotten
myself."

"I wish I could," ejaculated Bud bitterly, and refused to explain further.

CHAPTER III

AN UNSETTLED SCORE

As soon after dinner as possible Larkin disengaged himself from the rest
of the party and motioned Caldwell to follow him. He led the way around
the house and back toward the fence of the corral. It was already dark,
and the only sounds were those of the horses stirring restlessly, or the
low bellow of one of the ranch milch cows.

"What are you doing out here?" demanded Bud.

"I came to see you." The other emitted an exasperating chuckle at his own
cheap wit.

"What do you want?"

"You know what I want." This time there was no chuckle, and Bud could
imagine the close-set, greedy eyes of the other, one of them slightly
crossed, boring into him in the dark.

"Money, I suppose, you whining blood-sucker," suggested Bud, his voice
quiet, but holding a cold, unpleasant sort of ring that was new to
Caldwell.

"'The boy guessed right the very first time,'" quoted Smithy, unabashed.

"What became of that two thousand I gave you before I left Chicago?"

"I got little enough of that," cried Caldwell. "You know how many people
there were to be hushed up."

"Many!" snapped Larkin. "You can't come any of that on me. There were just
three; yourself, your wife, and that r