rms, and pushed his hat farther back from his
forehead. His whole attitude spoke impenitent scorn.

"I also licked the Pilgrim and hazed him away from camp and told him
particular not to come back," he informed the other defiantly. He did
not add, "What are you going to do about it?" but his tone carried
unmistakably that sentiment.

"And the Pilgrim happens to be a stepbrother uh the widow the Old Man
is at present running after, and aiming to marry. I was sent over here
to put the can onto you, Billy. I hate like thunder to do it, but--"
The foreman waved a hand to signify his utter helplessness.

The face of Billy stiffened perceptibly; otherwise he moved not a
muscle.

"The Old Man says for you to stay till he can put another man down
here in your place, though. He'll send Jim Bleeker soon as he comes
back from town--which ain't apt to be for two or three days unless
they're short on booze."

Billy caught his breath, hesitated, and reached for his smoking
material. It was not till he had licked his cigarette into shape and
was feeling in his pocket for a match that he spoke. "I've drawed
wages from the Double-Crank for quite a spell, and I always aimed
to act white with the outfit. It's more than they're doing by me,
but--I'll stay till Jim comes." He smoked moodily, and stared at his
boots. "Yuh ain't going back tonight, are yuh?"

The foreman said he must, and came back to the subject. "Yuh don't
want to think I'm firing yuh, Billy. If it was my say-so, I'd tell the
Pilgrim to go to hell. But he went straight to headquarters with his
tale uh woe, and the Old Man is kinda uncertain these days, on account
uh not being right sure uh the widow. He feels just about obliged to
keep the Pilgrim smoothed down; he ain't worth his grub, if you ask
me."

"Oh, I ain't thinking nothing at all about it," Billy lied proudly.
"If the Old Man feels like canning me, that there's his funeral. I
reckon maybe he likes the Pilgrim's breed better for a change. And
I wouldn't be none surprised if I could get a job with some other
outfit, all right. I ain't aiming to starve--nor yet ride grub-line."

"When you analyze the thing right down to fundamentals," observed the
foreman, whom men called "Jawbreaker" for obvious reasons, "it's a
cussed shame. You're one of the oldest men with the outfit, and the
Pilgrim is the youngest--and the most inadequate. The Old Man oughta
waited till he heard both sides uh the case, and I told him