could penitenshery him fer
blockadin' right now, but thet wouldn't satisfy me nohow. I aims ter
handle him my own self."

Again there was absence of contradiction near about the braggart,
though ripples of derisive mirth trickled in from the outskirts.

Ratler jerked out his weapon and leaned against the bar. As he waved
the muzzle about he stormed furiously: "Who laughed back thar?" And no
one volunteered response.

Webb squinted hazily up at one of the reflector-backed lamps. "Damn
thet light," he exclaimed. "Hit hurts my eyes." There followed a report
and the lamp fell crashing.

For a brief space the drunken man stood holding the smoking weapon in
his hand, then he looked up and started, but this time he let the
pistol swing inactive at his side and the truculent blackness of his
face faded to an expression of dismay.

Kinnard Towers stood facing him with an unpleasant coldness in his
eyes.

"I reckon, Ratler," suggested the proprietor, "ye'd better come along
with me. I wants ter hev peaceable speech with ye."

In a room above-stairs Kinnard motioned him to a chair much as a
teacher might command a child taken red-handed in some mad prank.

"Ratler, hit hain't a right wise thing ter talk over-much," he
volunteered at last. "Whar air thet still ye spoke erbout--Bear Cat
Stacy's still?"

Webb cringed.

"I war jest a-talkin'. I don't know nuthin' erbout no sich still."

What means of loosening unwilling tongues Kinnard Towers commanded was
his own secret. A half hour later he knew what he wished to know and
Ratler Webb left the place. Upon his Ishmaelite neck was firmly
fastened the collar of vassalage to the baron of the Quarterhouse.

On the day following that evening Towers talked with Black Tom
Carmichael.

"This man Henderson," he said musingly, "air plumb stirring up ther
country. I reckon hit'd better be seen to."

Black Tom nodded. "Thet oughtn't ter be much trouble." But Towers shook
his blond head with an air of less assured confidence.

"Ter me hit don't look like no easy matter. Lone Stacy's givin' him
countenance. Ef I war ter run him outen these parts I reckon ther
Stacys would jest about swarm inter war over hit."

"What does ye aim ter do, Kinnard?"

"So far I'm only bidin' my time, but I aims ter keep a mighty sharp eye
on him. He hain't made no move yit, but he's gainin' friends fast an' a
man's obleeged ter kinderly plan ahead. When ther time's ripe he's got
ter go." Towers p