ht that, being in a free country, no one had a right to interfere.
The consequence was that Crux and his men were permitted to go to work.
They hired a shed in which to stow their goods, while they were engaged
in building a store, and in course of time this was finished; but there
was a degree of mystery about the ex-cowboy's proceedings which baffled
investigation, and people did not like to press inquiry too far; for it
was observed that all the men who had accompanied Crux were young and
powerful fellows, well armed with rifle and revolver.

At last however, the work was finished, and the mystery was cleared up,
for, one fine morning, the new store was opened as a drinking and
gambling saloon; and that same evening the place was in full swing--
sending forth the shouts, songs, cursing and demoniac laughter for which
such places are celebrated.

Consternation filled the hearts of the community, for it was not only
the men brought there by Crux who kept up their revels in the new
saloon, but a sprinkling of the spirited young fellows of the town also,
who had never been very enthusiastic in the temperance cause, and were
therefore prepared to fall before the first temptation.

At a conference of the chief men of the town it was resolved to try to
induce Crux to quit quietly, and for this end to offer to buy up his
stock-in-trade. Hunky Ben, being an old acquaintance, was requested to
go to the store as a deputation.

But the ex-cowboy was inexorable. Neither the offer of money nor
argument had any effect on him.

"Well, Crux," said the scout, at the conclusion of his visit, "you know
your own affairs best but, rememberin' as I do, what you used to be, I
thought there was more of fair-play about you."

"Fair-play! What d'ye mean?"

"I mean that when folk let _you_ alone, you used to be willin' to let
_them_ alone. Here has a crowd o' people come back all this way into
the Rockies to escape from the curse o' strong drink and gamblin', an'
here has Crux--a lover o' fair-play--come all this way to shove that
curse right under their noses. I'd thowt better of ye, Crux, lad."

"It don't matter much what you thowt o' me, old man," returned the
cowboy, somewhat sharply; "an', as to fair-play, there's a lot of men
here who don't agree wi' your humbuggin' notions about temperance an'
tee-totalism--more of 'em, maybe, than you think. These want to have
the drink, an' I've come to give it 'em. I see nothin' unfair