n his trouser
pockets, "the question is, what's to be done with you? I just guess
we'll make an example of you for interfering with the law."

"And I guess you won't do anything of the kind, Jim Blake, because there
isn't a white man in the country that will help you do it."

"The devil!" ejaculated Blake, completely taken aback by Dick's
coolness.

"I guess Dick's about right there, Jim," spoke up another of his men.

Blake was about to continue the argument, but realizing that the
sentiment of his men was not with him and that his position was growing
momentarily more ridiculous, he ceased abruptly. Rough though he was
and of the swash-buckler type, he was neither insensible to the humor of
the situation nor to the nerve it had taken on Dick's part to hold
twenty armed men at bay single-handed. It is usually a difficult matter
to pocket one's pride, especially if one sees ridicule lurking just
around the corner, but few men were capable of resisting the charm of
Dick's personality for long.

"Come, Jim, be reasonable," he said, laying his hand familiarly on
Blake's shoulder; "Bob Carlton saved my life once and now we're quits."

"He did? Well, that's the only good thing the sneakin' skunk ever done!
Why didn't you tell us that before?"

"Because you didn't give me time. You would have hung him first and then
listened to what I had to say afterwards."

"Hum!" ejaculated Blake, "I guess you're about right there."

"Boys," continued Dick, turning to the others, "I'm mighty sorry to have
spoiled your fun, but I'll see that you don't regret your visit to Santa
Fe. Come into the house and I'll tell how it happened. The cigars and
the drinks are on me!"

"Well, as I said before, Dick," exclaimed Blake, "you're the cussedest,
most contrariest feller I ever seen. You got the best of us this time,
but I guess we'll about get even with you on the drinks before we're
through--won't we, boys?" and amid a chorus of laughter and good-humored
exclamations, the men, followed by Dick and Blake, crowded into the
house.

"What a country!" gasped Mrs. Forest after the last of them had
disappeared. "Have people here nothing to do but murder one another?"
she asked in a despairing voice, sniffing vigorously at the bottle of
salts her maid handed her.

"Ze Saints be praised, zey do not!" cried the Senora who by this time
had regained her composure. "Such a zing 'as happened nevair before."

"They are a little more free-handed