t upon him. For a year he had been trying to persuade her to
marry him, and he knew that he must say good-bye to his hopes if he
fought with his enemy.

It was fear that kept Meldrum at home. He had been a killer, but the
men he had killed had been taken at advantage. It was one thing to
shoot this Beaudry cub down from ambush. It was another to meet him in
the open. Moreover, he knew the Rutherfords. The owner of the horse
ranch had laid the law down to him. No chance shot from the chaparral
was to cut down Dingwell's partner.

The ex-convict listened to the whispers of Tighe. He brooded over
them, but he did not act on them. His alcohol-dulled brain told him
that he had reached the limit of public sufferance. One more killing
by him, and he would pay the penalty at the hands of the law. When he
took his revenge, it must be done so secretly that no evidence could
connect him with the crime. He must, too, have an _alibi_ acceptable
to Hal Rutherford.

Meldrum carried with him to Battle Butte, on his first trip after the
arcade affair, a fixed determination to avoid Beaudry. In case he met
him, he would pass without speaking.

But all of Meldrum's resolutions were apt to become modified by
subsequent inhibitions. In company with one or two cronies he made a
tour of the saloons of the town. At each of them he said, "Have
another," and followed his own advice to show good faith.

On one of these voyages from port to port the bad man from Chicito
Canon sighted a tall, lean-flanked, long-legged brown man. He was
crossing the street so that the party came face to face with him at the
apex of a right angle. The tanned stranger in corduroys, hickory
shirt, and pinched-in hat of the range rider was Royal Beaudry. It was
with a start of surprise that Meldrum recognized him. His enemy was no
longer a "pink-ear." There was that in his stride, his garb, and the
steady look of his eye which told of a growing confidence and
competence. He looked like a horseman of the plains, fit for any
emergency that might confront him.

Taken at advantage by the suddenness of the meeting, Meldrum gave
ground with a muttered oath. The young cattleman nodded to the trio
and kept on his way. None of the others knew that his heart was
hammering a tattoo against his ribs or that queer little chills chased
each other down his spine.

Chet Fox ventured a sly dig at the ex-convict. "Looks a right healthy
sick man, Dan."