off.

"I've been made temporary foreman of the Three Bar--just so the boss
could try me out on that job for an hour or two," he remarked
conversationally. "So I'm putting in a new rule that goes into effect
right off. When you boys ride away, in a few minutes from now, you can
tell folks that the grub line is closed as far as the Three Bar is
concerned."

Lang took a half-step toward him, his face reflecting his gathering
rage as his slow brain comprehended the fact that this speech was but
another way of announcing that he and his men would find no welcome at
the Three Bar from that moment on. Harper caught his arm and jerked
him back. The albino was an old hand and could rightly read the signs.

"The gentleman was remarking to me," he said to Lang; "not you." He
turned to Harris, noting as he did so that every Three Bar man,
excepting those asleep, had suddenly evidenced keen interest in what
was transpiring there; several carelessly shifted their positions.
"There's no law to make you feed any man," he said to Harris. "From
now on we'll pay our way--as far as the Three Bar is concerned."

His tones were casual; only his pale eyes, fastened unblinkingly on
Harris's face, betrayed his real feeling toward the man who,
notwithstanding the roundabout nature of his announcement, had
practically ordered him to stay away from the Three Bar for all time.

"But even in the face of that," he resumed, "we'll welcome you any time
you happen to ride down our way."

Every man within earshot understood the threat that lay beneath the
casual words.

"Then I'll likely drop in some time," Harris said. "If you'll send
word where it is. And I'll bring fifty men along."

The albino motioned his men toward their horses and they mounted and
rode off down the bottoms. Harris walked back and resumed his seat
near the girl, who sat looking at him as if she could not believe what
she had just witnessed.

"You see it was just as easy as I'd counted on," he said. "It'll be a
considerable saving on food."

"But how did you know?" she asked. "Why is Harper afraid of you?"

"He's not," Harris said. "Not for a single second. But he's an old
hand and has left a few places on the jump before he came out here."

"And he thinks you know it!" she guessed.

"He don't care what I know; it's what he knows himself--that the wild
bunch is always roosting on the powder can even when it appears like
they're sitting pretty--that coun