u're going to take it
out on me through the railroad; you're going to sneak and scheme. Well,
you're in good company--anything that you don't know about skinning people
Braman will tell you. But I'm letting you know this: The railroad
company's option on my land expired last night, and it won't be renewed.
If it's fight you're looking for, I'll do my best to accommodate you."

Corrigan grunted, and idly drummed with the fingers of one hand on the top
of the desk, watching Trevison steadily. The latter opened his lips to
speak, changed his mind, grinned and went out. Corrigan and Braman watched
him as he stopped for a moment outside to talk with his friends, and their
gaze followed him until he mounted Nigger and rode out of town. Then the
banker looked at Corrigan, his brows wrinkling.

"You know your business, Jeff," he said; "but you've picked a tough man in
Trevison."

Corrigan did not answer. He was glowering at the pieces of the check that
lay on the floor at his feet.

CHAPTER IV

THE LONG ARM OF POWER

Presently Corrigan lit a cigar, biting the end off carefully, to keep it
from coming in contact with his bruised lips. When the cigar was going
well, he looked at Braman.

"What is Trevison?"

Pale, still dizzy from the effects of the blow on the head, Braman, who
was leaning heavily on the counter, smiled wryly:

"He's a holy terror--you ought to know that. He's a reckless,
don't-give-a-damn fool who has forgotten there's such a thing as
consequences. 'Firebrand' Trevison, they call him. And he lives up to what
that means. The folks in this section of the country swear by him."

Corrigan made a gesture of impatience. "I mean--what does he do? Of course
I know he owns some land here. But how much land does he own?"

"You saw the figure on the check, didn't you? He owns five thousand
acres."

"How long has he been here?"

"You've got me. More than ten years, I guess, from what I can gather."

"What was he before he came here?"

"I couldn't even surmise that--he don't talk about his past. From the way
he waded into you, I should judge he was a prize fighter before becoming a
cow-puncher."

Corrigan glared at the banker. "Yes; it's damned funny," he said. "How did
he get his land?"

"Proved on a quarter-section. Bought the rest of it--and bought it mighty
cheap." Braman's eyes brightened. "Figure on attacking _his_ title?"

Corrigan grunted. "I notice he asked you for cash. You're not hi