teelman's restless black eyes watched furtively the effect of
his taunting on this man, a victim of wild and uncurbed passions. He was
egging him on to a rage that would throw away all caution and all
scruples.

"He'll never live to run for office!" the cattleman cried hoarsely.

"They talk him for sheriff. Say Applegate's no good--too easy-going. Say
Sanders'll round up you an' Shorty pronto when he's given authority."

Doble ripped out a wild and explosive oath. He knew this man was playing
on his vanity, jealousy, and hatred for some purpose not yet apparent,
but he found it impossible to close his mind to the whisperings of the
plotter. He welcomed the spur of Steelman's two-edged tongue because he
wanted to have his purpose of vengeance fed.

"Sanders never saw the day he could take me, dead or alive. I'll meet him
any time, any way, an' when I turn my back on him he'll be ready for the
coroner."

"I believe you, Dug. No need to tell me you're not afraid of him, for--"

"Afraid of him!" bellowed Doble, eyes like live coals. "Say that again
an' I'll twist yore head off."

Steelman did not say it again. He pushed the bottle toward his guest and
said other things.

CHAPTER XXXV

FIRE IN THE CHAPARRAL

A carpenter working on the roof of a derrick for Jackpot Number Six
called down to his mates:

"Fire in the hills, looks like. I see smoke."

The contractor was an old-timer. He knew the danger of fire in the
chaparral at this season of the year.

"Run over to Number Four and tell Crawford," he said to his small son.

Crawford and Hart had just driven out from town.

"I'll shag up the tower and have a look," the younger man said.

He had with him no field-glasses, but his eyes were trained to
long-distance work. Years in the saddle on the range had made him an
expert at reading such news as the landscape had written on it.

"Fire in Bear Canon!" he shouted down. "Quite a bit of smoke risin'."

"I'll ride right up and look it over," the cattleman called back. "Better
get a gang together to fight it, Bob. Hike up soon as you're ready."

Crawford borrowed without permission of the owner the nearest saddle
horse and put it to a lope. Five minutes might make all the difference
between a winning and a losing fight.

From the tower Hart descended swiftly. He gathered together all the
carpenters, drillers, enginemen, and tool dressers in the vicinity and
equipped them with shovels, picks, brush-ho