ig man contemptuously, releasing his captive and
flipping the cartridges from the gun. "Beat it, you blighters, and pick
out easier marks next time."

"You big crook!" snarled the owner of the gun, "I'll get you----"

He never finished the sentence, for Gavin was on him. He caught him by
the clothes above his breast, lifted him clear and slammed him back
against the wall. There he held him, pinned with one hand, like a moth
in a show-case.

"Get me, will you?" he growled hoarsely. "If I hit you, you cheap
tinhorn, you'd never get me or anybody else. Try to get me, and I'll
break your back over my knee. Like this!"

He plucked the man away from the wall as if he had been a doll, and
threw him, back down, across his knee. For an instant he held him, and
then set him on his feet. The man's face was the dead gray of asbestos
paper.

"Git!" Gavin commanded. "Don't fool around here or make any more bluffs.
Get out of town."

When the two strangers had gone, Gerald laughed gently.

"This breaks up our game, I guess," he said. "By the way--Angus
Mackay--Mr. Chetwood."

The two young men shook hands. Chetwood was a long-limbed young fellow
with the old-country color fresh in his cheeks, frank blue eyes with a
baby stare which would have been a credit to any ingenue, but which held
an occasional twinkle quite at variance with their ordinary expression.
Angus was inclined to like him. Chetwood, on his part, eyed the lean,
hard, sinewy bulk of Angus with admiration.

"I say, what was all the row about?" he asked Gerald. "They accused you
of cheating, what?"

"Old game," said Gerald carelessly. "They went up against an unbeatable
hand, lost more than they could afford, and tried to run a bluff. They
were both crooks, anyway."

"But if you knew that, why the deuce did you play with them?"

"You can't be too particular if you want a game," Gerald laughed.

"You do things so dam' casual out here," Chetwood complained
whimsically. "Now when they tried to draw revolvers--'guns' you call
them out here--I should have given them in charge."

"Too much trouble and no police force handy," said Gerald. "But I wanted
to ask you about that horse you've been training for the Indians,
Mackay. Are you betting on him?"

"I haven't been training him, and I don't think I'll bet. The Indians
will, though."

"Tell 'em we'll take all the money they have, at evens."

"Even money against the field?"

"Exactly. You'd better take a li