ns--The Kid did not need to read the
signs above them to see that. The loungers and hangers-on about their
doors told the story. Sandwiched between two of the biggest bars,
however, was a small shack--the only frame building in the place.

"Well, this Majah Stover hombre must be in the business," muttered The
Kid to himself.

His eyes had fallen on the sign over the door:

MAJOR STOVER
LAND OFFICE

Kid Wolf was curious. Strange to say, he had been thinking of the
major before he had observed the sign, and wondering about the man's
offer to buy the S Bar Ranch. The Texan whistled softly as he
dismounted. He left Blizzard waiting at the hitch rack, and sauntered
to the office door.

He opened the door, let himself in, and found himself in a dusty,
paper-littered room. A few maps hung on the walls. Kid Wolf's first
impression was the disagreeable smell of cigar stumps.

His eyes fell upon the man at the desk by the dirty window, and he
experienced a sudden start--an uncomfortable feeling. The Texan did
not often dislike a man at first sight, but he was a keen reader of
character.

"Do yuh have business with me?" demanded the man at the desk.

Major Stover, if this were he, was a paunchy, disgustingly fat man.
His face was moonlike, sensually thick of lip. His eyes, as they fell
upon his visitor, were hoglike, nearly buried in sallow folds of skin.

The thick brows above them had grown close together.

"Well," The Kid drawled, "I don't exactly know. Yo' deal in lands, I
believe?"

"I have some holdings," said the fat man complacently. "Are yo'
interested in the San Felipe district?"

"Very much," said The Kid, nodding. "I am quite attracted by
Rattlesnake County, and----"

"This isn't Rattlesnake County, young man," corrected the land agent.
"This is San Felipe County."

"Oh, excuse me," murmured the Texan, "maybe I got that idea because of
the lahge numbah of snakes----"

"There's no more snakes here than----" the other began.

"I meant the human kind," explained Kid Wolf mildly.

Major Stover's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What do yuh want with me?"
he demanded.

"Did yo' offah ten thousand dollahs fo' the S Bar Ranch?"

"That is none of yore business!"

"No?" drawled Kid Wolf patiently. "Yo' might say that I am heah as
Mrs. Thomas' agent."

The major looked startled. "Where's yore credentials?" he snapped,
after a brief pause.

Kid Wolf merely smiled and tapped the butt