threw up to catch at the rope that never came within twenty feet of
him, and at the last, the hopeless good-by wave he sent Tom when he
whirled into the moil that pulled him under and never let him go. Tom
learned on the bank of the Snake another lesson: He must never be so
weak as to let another man badger him into doing something against his
own desires or judgment.

Jim's pitiful going left Tom in full possession of the Devil's Tooth
ranch and the cattle and horses that fed on the open range of the
Black Rim country,--and they were many. Young Tom was lonely, but his
loneliness was smothered under a consuming desire to add to his
possessions and to avoid the mistakes of his brothers and of his
father who had carelessly ridden where he should have walked.

Men of the Rim country frequently predicted that young Tom Lorrigan
would die with his boots on; preferably in mid-air. They said he was
going to be like his dad in more than looks, and that times were
changing and a man couldn't steal cattle and kill off anybody that
argued with him, and get away with it as Tom's father had done. They
complained that the country was getting too damn Sunday school, and
young Tom had better tame down a little before he got into trouble.

As Black Rim defines the word, Tom was quite as bad as they called
him. A handsome young dare-devil he was, slanting his glance
downward when he looked into the eyes of a six-foot man,--and
every inch of him good healthy bone and muscle. Women eyed him
pleasantly, wistful for his smile. Men spoke to him friendlywise
and consciously side-stepped his wrath. On the Black Rim range his
word was law, his law was made for himself and the wealth he hankered
for. That wealth he named a million dollars, and he named it often
because he liked the sound of the word. Without any ifs he declared
it. There was a million to be had in Idaho, was there not? Very well,
he would have his million, and he would have it in cattle and horses
and land. He would not go mucking in the gold mines for it; his
million should graze on the bunch grass. He wanted, he said, to see a
million dollars walking around. And since old Tom Lorrigan had
left him a mere forty thousand--according to the appraisers of the
Devil's Tooth estate--young Tom had a long way to go to see his dream
a reality.

Men of the Black Rim hinted that young Tom rode with a long rope;
meaning that his rope would reach the cattle of his neighbor cowmen if
th