t mailsack. A flank steak would make a
big hit with me."

Jeff looked at him in the dour, black Rutherford way. "This is no
picnic, you'll find."

"Not to you, but it's a great vacation for me. I feel a hundred per
cent better since I got up into all this ozone and scenery." Dingwell
assured him hardily. "A man ought to take a trip like this every once
in a while. It's great for what ails him."

Young Rutherford grunted sulkily. Their prisoner was the coolest
customer he had ever met. The man was no fool. He must know he was in
peril, but his debonair, smiling _insouciance_ never left him for a
moment. He was grit clear through.

Chapter XI

Tighe Weaves his Web Tighter

The hooded eyes of Jess Tighe slanted across the table at his visitor.
Not humor but mordant irony had given birth to the sardonic smile on
his thin, bloodless lips.

"I reckon you'll be glad to know that you've been entertaining an angel
unawares, Hal," he jeered. "I've been looking up your handsome young
friend, and I can tell you what the 'R.B.' in his hat stands for in
case you would be interested to know."

The owner of the horse ranch gave a little nod. "Unload your
information, Jess."

Tighe leaned forward for emphasis and bared his teeth. If ever
malevolent hate was written on a face it found expression on his now.

"'R.B.' stands for Royal Beaudry."

Rutherford flashed a question at him from startled eyes. He waited for
the other man to continue.

"You remember the day we put John Beaudry out of business?" asked Tighe.

"Yes. Go on." Hal Rutherford was not proud of that episode. In the
main he had fought fair, even though he had been outside the law. But
on the day he had avenged the death of his brother Anson, the feud
between him and the sheriff had degenerated to murder. A hundred times
since he had wished that he had gone to meet the officer alone.

"He had his kid with him. Afterward they shipped him out of the
country to an aunt in Denver. He went to school there. Well, I've had
a little sleuthing done."

"And you've found out--?"

"What I've told you."

"How?"

"He said his name was Cherokee Street, but Jeff told me he didn't act
like he believed himself. When yore girl remembered there was a street
of that name in Denver, Mr. Cherokee Street was plumb rattled. He seen
he'd made a break. Well, you saw that snapshot Beulah took of him and
me on the porch. I sent it to a detective ag