about work--who'd you say Snell worked for?"

"I didn't say."

"Well, say so now, can't you? Jim, you're powerful peevish to-day. It's
the bump on your head. Who does Snell work for?"

"When he works at all, which sure ain't often, he rides for Sampson."

"Humph! Seems to me, Jim, that Sampson's the whole circus round Linrock.
I was some sore the other day to find I was losing good money at
Sampson's faro game. Sure if I'd won I wouldn't have been sorry, eh? But
I was surprised to hear some scully say Sampson owned the Hope So dive."

"I've heard he owned considerable property hereabouts," replied Jim
constrainedly.

"Humph again! Why, Jim, you _know_ it, only like every other scully you
meet in this town, you're afraid to open your mug about Sampson. Get me
straight, Jim Hoden. I don't care a damn for Colonel Mayor Sampson. And
for cause I'd throw a gun on him just as quick as on any rustler in
Pecos."

"Talk's cheap, my boy," replied Hoden, making light of my bluster, but
the red was deep in his face.

"Sure, I know that," I said, calming down. "My temper gets up, Jim. Then
it's not well known that Sampson owns the Hope So?"

"Reckon it's known in Pecos, all right. But Sampson's name isn't
connected with the Hope So. Blandy runs the place."

"That Blandy--I've got no use for him. His faro game's crooked, or I'm
locoed bronc. Not that we don't have lots of crooked faro dealers. A
fellow can stand for them. But Blandy's mean, back handed, never looks
you in the eyes. That Hope So place ought to be run by a good fellow
like you, Hoden."

"Thanks, Russ," replied he, and I imagined his voice a little husky.
"Didn't you ever hear _I_ used to run it?"

"No. Did you?" I said quickly.

"I reckon. I built the place, made additions twice, owned it for eleven
years."

"Well, I'll be doggoned!"

It was indeed my turn to be surprised, and with the surprise came
glimmering.

"I'm sorry you're not there now, Jim. Did you sell out?"

"No. Just lost the place."

Hoden was bursting for relief now--to talk--to tell. Sympathy had made
him soft. I did not need to ask another question.

"It was two years ago--two years last March," he went on. "I was in a
big cattle deal with Sampson. We got the stock, an' my share, eighteen
hundred head, was rustled off. I owed Sampson. He pressed me. It come to
a lawsuit, an' I--was ruined."

It hurt me to look at Hoden. He was white, and tears rolled down his
cheeks.

I saw