that second punch," he thought.
"I never hit so hard in my life."

The stableman had retired to his bunk--a habit of night stablemen. The
stable was dark and still, save for the munching of the horses. In the
saloon across the way Cheyenne was facing Sneed and his men, alone.
Bartley felt like a quitter. Indecision irritated him, and curiosity
urged him to do something other than to stand staring at the saloon
front. He recalled his plan to sojourn in San Andreas a few days, and
incidently to ride over to the Lawrence ranch--frankly, to have another
visit with Dorothy. He shrugged his shoulders. That idea now seemed
insignificant, compared with the present possibilities.

"I'm a free agent," he soliloquized. "I think I'll take a hand in this,
myself."

He snapped his fingers as he turned and hastened to Dobe's stall. He led
Dobe out to the stable floor, got his saddle from the office, told the
sleepy stableman that he was going to take a little ride, and saddled
Dobe. And he led Dobe back to where Joshua was tied. He had forgotten
his victim on the floor, for a moment, but was aware of him when he
stumbled over him in the dark. The other mumbled and struggled faintly.

"I left your gun in the wagon-box," said Bartley. "I wouldn't move
around much, if I were you. One of the horses might step on your face
and hurt his foot."

Mr. Hull was not pleased at this, and he said as much. Bartley tied Dobe
to the back of the wagon.

"Just keep your eye on the horses a minute," he told Hull. "I'll be back
soon."

Bartley felt unusually and inexplicably elated. He had not realized the
extreme potency of mescal. The proprietor of the hotel was mildly
surprised when Bartley, remarking that he had been called away
unexpectedly, paid the hotel bill. Bartley hastened back to the stable.
Across the way the horses of the mountain men drowsed in the faint
lamplight. Turning, Bartley saw Joshua and Dobe dimly silhouetted in the
opening at the far end of the stable. Cheyenne was still in the saloon.

Bartley grinned. "It might help," he said as he stepped across the
street. Taking down the rope from the nearest horse, he tied the end of
the rope in the horse's bridle and threaded the end through the bridles
of all five horses, tying the loose end to the last horse's bridle.
"Just like stringing fish!" he murmured soulfully. "When those gentlemen
from the interior try to mount, there'll be something doing."

He had just turned to wa