n of great bulk, with a ruddy,
merry face.

"Hello, Morton. Let's have a drink," I replied.

"Gotta rustle home," he said. "Young feller, I've a ranch to work."

"Sell it to me, Morton."

He laughed and said he wished he could. His buckboard stood at the rail,
the horses stamping impatiently.

"Cards must be runnin' lucky," he went on, with another hearty laugh.

"Can't kick on the luck. But I'm afraid it will change. Morton, my
friend Hoden gave me a hunch you'd be a good man to tie to. Now, I've
a little money, and before I lose it I'd like to invest it in stock."

He smiled broadly, but for all his doubt of me he took definite
interest.

"I'm not drunk, and I'm on the square," I said bluntly. "You've taken me
for a no-good cow puncher without any brains. Wake up, Morton. If you
never size up your neighbors any better than you have me--well, you
won't get any richer."

It was sheer enjoyment for me to make my remarks to these men, pregnant
with meaning. Morton showed his pleasure, his interest, but his faith
held aloof.

"I've got some money. I had some. Then the cards have run lucky. Will
you let me in on some kind of deal? Will you start me up as a stockman,
with a little herd all my own?"

"Russ, this's durn strange, comin' from Sampson's cowboy," he said.

"I'm not in his outfit. My job's with Miss Sampson. She's fine, but the
old man? Nit! He's been after me for weeks. I won't last long. That's
one reason why I want to start up for myself."

"Hoden sent you to me, did he? Poor ol' Jim. Wal, Russ, to come out
flat-footed, you'd be foolish to buy cattle now. I don't want to take
your money an' see you lose out. Better go back across the Pecos where
the rustlers ain't so strong. I haven't had more'n twenty-five-hundred
head of stock for ten years. The rustlers let me hang on to a breedin'
herd. Kind of them, ain't it?"

"Sort of kind. All I hear is rustlers." I replied with impatience. "You
see, I haven't ever lived long in a rustler-run county. Who heads the
gang anyway?"

Frank Morton looked at me with a curiously-amused smile.

"I hear lots about Jack Blome and Snecker. Everybody calls them out and
out bad. Do they head this mysterious gang?"

"Russ, I opine Blome an' Snecker parade themselves off boss rustlers
same as gun throwers. But thet's the love such men have for bein'
thought hell. That's brains headin' the rustler gang hereabouts."

"Maybe Blome and Snecker are blinds. Savvy what I