u
conceited ass--you selfish an' spoiled boy!... Collie never had any use
for you. An' now she hates you."

"It was you who made her!" yelled Belllounds, foaming at the mouth.

"Sure," went on the deliberate voice, ringing with scorn. "An' only a
little while ago she called you a dog.... I reckon she meant a different
kind of a dog than the hounds over there. For to say they were like you
would be an insult to them.... Sure she hates you, an' I'll gamble right
now she's got her arms around Wils's neck!"

"----!" hissed Belllounds.

"Well, you've got a gun in your hand," went on the taunting voice.
"Ahuh!... Have it your way. I'm warmin' up now, an' I'd like to tell
you ..."

"Shut up!" interrupted the other, frantically. The blood in him was
rising to a fever heat. But fear still clamped him. He could not raise
the gun and he seemed in agony.

"Your father knows you're a thief," declared Wade, with remorseless,
deliberate intent. "I told him how I watched you--trailed you--an'
learned the plot you hatched against Wils Moore.... Buster Jack busted
himself at last, stealin' his own father's cattle.... I've seen some
ragin' men in my day, but Old Bill had them beaten. You've disgraced
him--broken his heart--embittered the end of his life.... An' he'd mean
for you what I mean now!"

"He'd never--harm me!" gasped Buster Jack, shuddering.

"He'd kill you--you white-livered pup!" cried Wade, with terrible force.
"Kill you before he'd let you go to worse dishonor!... An' I'm goin' to
save him stainin' his hands."

"I'll kill _you!_" burst out Belllounds, ending in a shriek. But this
was not the temper that always produced heedless action in him. It was
hate. He could not raise the gun. His intelligence still dominated his
will. Yet fury had mitigated his terror.

"You'll be doin' me a service, Buster.... But you're mighty slow at
startin'. I reckon I'll have to play my last trump to make you fight.
Oh, by God! I can tell you!... Belllounds, there're dead men callin' me
now. Callin' me not to murder you in cold blood! I killed one man
once--a man who wouldn't fight--an innocent man! I killed him with my
bare hands, an' if I tell you my story--an' how I killed him--an' that
I'll do the same for you.... You'll save me that, Buster. No man with a
gun in his hands could face what he knew.... But save me more. Save me
the tellin'!"

"No! No! I won't listen!"

"Maybe I won't have to," replied Wade, mournfully. He pause