in to the house. What more do you want?"

"One hundred and ninety-three dollars. I thought I mentioned that
already. You tried to rob these men of that amount, but you didn't get
away with it. Now you'll rob yourself of just the same sum. Frisk
yourself, Mr. Smith."

"Not on your life I won't. It. . . it's an outrage. It's robbery.
I'll not stand for it." His words were brave, but the voice of the man
quavered. The bulbous, fishy eyes of the cheat wavered before the
implacable ones of the cattleman.

"Come through."

The gambler's gaze passed around the table and found no help from the
men he had been robbing. A crowd was beginning to gather. Swiftly he
decided to pay forfeit and get out while there was still time. He drew
a roll of bills from his pocket and with trembling fingers counted out
the sum named. He shoved it across the table and rose.

"Now, take your friend and both of you hit the trail out of town,"
ordered the cattleman.

Blair had by this time got to his feet and was leaning stupidly on a
chair. His companion helped him from the room. At the door he turned
and glared at Dingwell.

"You're going to pay for this--and pay big," he spat out, his voice
shaking with rage.

"Oh, that's all right," answered Dingwell easily.

The game broke up. Rutherford nodded a good-night to the cattleman and
left with Meldrum. Presently Dave noticed that Buck and the rest of
the clan had also gone. Only Slim Sanders was left, and he was playing
the wheel.

"Time to hit the hay," Dave yawned.

The bartender called "Good-night" as Dingwell went out of the swinging
doors. He said afterward that he thought he heard the sound of
scuffling and smothered voices outside. But his interest in the matter
did not take him as far as the door to find out if anything was wrong.

Chapter IV

Royal Beaudry Hears a Call

A bow-legged little man with the spurs still jingling on his heels
sauntered down one side of the old plaza. He passed a train of
fagot-laden burros in charge of two Mexican boys from Tesuque, the
sides and back of each diminished mule so packed with firewood that it
was a comical caricature of a beruffed Elizabethan dame. Into the
plaza narrow, twisted streets of adobe rambled carelessly. One of
these led to the San Miguel Mission, said to be the oldest church in
the United States.

An entire side of the square was occupied by a long, one-story adobe
structure. This was the