which they have in common. In point of age Ashby was, perhaps,
the senior. As far as reputation was concerned, both men were accounted
nervy and square. Rance introduced him to Sonora and the others, saying:

"Boys, Mr. Ashby of Wells Fargo."

The latter had a pleasant word or two for the men; then, turning to the
Deputy, he said:

"And how are you these days?"

"Fit. And yourself?"

"Same here." Turning now to the barkeeper, Ashby, with easy familiarity,
added: "Say, Nick, give us a drink."

"Sure!" came promptly from the little barkeeper.

"Everybody'll have the same?" inquired Ashby, turning once more to the
men.

"The same!" returned the men in chorus.

Thereupon, Nick briskly slapped down a bottle and four glasses before
the Sheriff, and leaving him to do the honours, disappeared into the
dance-hall.

"'Well, I trust the Girl who runs The Polka is well?" inquired Ashby,
pushing his glass near the bottle.

"Fine as silk," vouched Sonora, adding in the next breath: "But, say,
Mr. Ashby, how long you been chasm' up this road agent?"

"Oh, he only took to the road a few months ago," was Ashby's answer.
"Wells Fargo have had me and a posse busy ever since. He's a wonder!"

"Must be to evade you," complimented Sonora, much to the discomfort of
the Sheriff.

"Yes, I can smell a road agent in the wind," declared Ashby somewhat
boastfully. "But, Rance, I expect to get that fellow right here in your
county."

The Sheriff looked as if he scouted the idea, and was about to speak,
but checked the word on his tongue. Then followed a short silence in
which the Deputy, smiling a trifle derisively, went out of the saloon.

"Is this fellow a Spaniard?" questioned the Sheriff, drawling as usual,
but at the same time jerking his thumb over his shoulder towards a
placard on the wall, which read:

"FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS REWARD
FOR THE ROAD AGENT RAMERREZ,
OR INFORMATION LEADING TO HIS
CAPTURE.
(SIGNED) WELLS FARGO."

"No--can't prove it. The fact of his leading a crew of greasers and
Spaniards signifies nothing. His name is assumed, I suppose."

"They say he robs you like a gentleman," remarked Rance with some show
of interest.

"Well, look out for the greasers up the road!" was Ashby's warning as he
emptied his glass and put it down before him.

"We don't let them pass through here," shrugged Rance, likewise putting
down his glass on the table.

Ashby now picked up the whi