river, and I'm going to ask all you
gentlemen to remain until I can send for him."

John Cotton was dispatched after Deweese. Conversation meanwhile became
polite and changed to other subjects. Those of us at work baling hides
went ahead as if nothing unusual was on the tapis. The visitors were all
armed, which was nothing unusual, for the wearing of six-shooters was as
common as the wearing of hoots. During the interim, several level-headed
visitors took Henry Annear to one side, evidently to reason with him and
urge an apology, for they could readily see that Uncle Lance was justly
offended. But it seemed that Annear would listen to no one, and while
they were yet conversing among themselves, John Cotton and our foreman
galloped around the bend of the river and rode up to the yard. No doubt
Cotton had explained the situation, but as they dismounted Uncle Lance
stepped between his foreman and Annear, saying:--

"June, Henry, here, questions the honesty of your list of strays killed,
and insists on our cutting the bales for his inspection." Turning to
Annear, Uncle Lance inquired, "Do you still insist on opening the
bales?"

"Yes, sir, I do."

Deweese stepped to one side of his employer, saying to Annear: "You
offer to cut a bale here to-day, and I'll cut your heart out. Behind my
back, you questioned my word. Question it to my face, you dirty sneak."

Annear sprang backward and to one side, drawing a six-shooter in the
movement, while June was equally active. Like a flash, two shots rang
out. Following the reports, Henry turned halfway round, while Deweese
staggered a step backward. Taking advantage of the instant, Uncle Lance
sprang like a panther on to June and bore him to the ground, while the
visitors fell on Annear and disarmed him in a flash. They were dragged
struggling farther apart, and after some semblance of sanity had
returned, we stripped our foreman and found an ugly flesh wound crossing
his side under the armpit, the bullet having been deflected by a rib.
Annear had fared worse, and was spitting blood freely, and the marks of
exit and entrance of the bullet indicated that the point of one lung had
been slightly chipped.

"I suppose this outcome is what you might call the _amende honorable_"
smilingly said George Nathan, one of the visitors, later to Uncle Lance.
"I always knew there was a little bad blood existing between the boys,
but I had no idea that it would flash in the pan so suddenly or I'