* * * *

Ben Doubler had omitted an important detail from his story of Langford's
visit to his cabin, for he had not cared to frighten Sheila unnecessarily.
But as Langford rode toward Doubler's cabin this morning his thoughts
persisted in dwelling on Doubler's final words to him, spoken as he and
Duncan had turned their horses to leave the nester's cabin the day
before:

"If it's goin' to be war, Langford, it ain't goin' to be no pussy-kitten
affair. I'm warnin' you to stay away from the Two Forks. If I ketch you or
any of your men nosin' around there I'm goin' to bore you some rapid."

Langford had sneered then, and he sneered now as he rode toward the river,
for he had no doubt that Doubler had uttered the threat in a spirit of
bravado. Of course, he told himself as he rode, the man was forced to say
something, but the idea of him being serious in the threat to shoot any
one who came to the Two Forks was ridiculous.

All his life Langford had heard threats from the lips of his victims, and
thus far they had remained only threats. He had determined to see Doubler
this morning, for he had noticed that the nester had appeared ill at ease
in the presence of Duncan, and he anticipated that alone he could force
him to accept terms. When he reached the crossing at Two Forks he urged
his pony through its waters, his face wearing a confident smile.

There was an open stretch of grass land between the crossing and Doubler's
cabin, and when Langford urged his pony up the sloping bank of the river
he saw the nester standing near the door of the cabin, watching. Langford
was about to force his pony to a faster pace, when he saw Doubler raise a
rifle to his shoulder. Still, he continued to ride forward, but he pulled
the pony up shortly when he saw the flame spurt from the muzzle of the
rifle and heard the shrill hiss of the bullet as it passed dangerously
near to him.

No words were needed, and neither man spoke any. Without stopping to give
Doubler an opportunity to speak, Langford wheeled his pony, and with a
white, scared face, bending low over the animal's mane to escape any
bullets which might follow the first, rapidly recrossed the river. Once on
the crest of the hill on the opposite side he turned, and trembling with
rage and fear, shook a clenched hand at Doubler. The latter's reply was a
strident laugh.

Langford returned to the ranchouse, riding slowly, though in his heart was
a riot of rag