nca, Duncan
had taken pains to insinuate publicly that Dakota's purchase of the Star
from the half-breed had been a clever ruse to avert suspicion, intimating
that a partnership existed between Dakota and Blanca. The shooting of
Blanca by Dakota, however, had exploded this charge, and until now Duncan
had been very careful to avoid a meeting with the man whom he had
maligned.

During the night he had given much thought to the circumstance which was
sending him to meet his enemy. He had a suspicion that Sheila had
purposely taunted him with cowardice--that in all probability Dakota
himself had suggested the plan in order to force a meeting with him. This
thought suggested another. Sheila's defense of Dakota seemed to indicate
that a certain intimacy existed between them. He considered this
carefully, and with a throb of jealously concluded that Dakota's action in
saving Sheila's life would very likely pave the way for a closer
acquaintance.

Certainly, in spite of Sheila's remark about Dakota being a "brute," she
had betrayed evidence of admiration for the man. In that case her veiled
allusions to his own fear of meeting Dakota were very likely founded on
something which Dakota had told her, and certainly anything which Dakota
might have said about him would not be complimentary. Therefore his rage
against both Sheila and his enemy was bitter when he finally rode up to
the door of the latter's cabin.

There was hope in his heart that Dakota might prove to be absent, and
when, after calling once and receiving no answer, he dismounted and
hitched Dakota's pony to a rail of the corral fence, there was a smile of
satisfaction on his face.

He took plenty of time to hitch the pony; he even lingered at the corral
bars, leaning on them to watch several steers which were inside the
enclosure. He found time, too, in spite of his fear of his enemy, to sneer
over the evidences of prosperity which were on every hand. He was
congratulating himself on his good fortune in reaching Dakota's cabin
during a time when the latter was absent, when he heard a slight sound
behind him. He turned rapidly, to see Dakota standing in the doorway of
the cabin, watching him with cold, level eyes, one of his heavy
six-shooters in hand.

Duncan's face went slowly pale. He did not speak at once and when he did
he was surprised at his hoarseness.

"I've brought your cayuse back," he said finally.

"So I see," returned Dakota. His eyes glinted wi