Suits me if it does you. We'll plant you with yore boots
on, one of these days."

Dinsmore swaggered from the jail and presently rode out of town to join
his companions. Three days later an acquaintance stopped Jack Roberts on
the street.

"Seen Cap Ellison this mo'nin'? He was down at the shippin'-pen an'
wanted to see you. The old man's hot as a ginger-mill about somethin'."

The Ranger strolled down toward the cattle-yards. On the way he met
Arthur Ridley. They had come to be pretty good friends in the past
month. The standards of the Texan were undergoing revision. He had been
brought up in an outdoor school which taught that the rock-bottom factor
of a man's character is gameness. Without it nothing else counted. This
was as vital for a man as virtue for a woman. But it had begun to reach
him that pluck is largely a matter of training. Arthur had lived soft,
and his nerve, like his muscles, needed toughening. Were his gayety, his
loyalty, his fundamental decency, the affectionate sweetness of his
disposition, to count for nothing? He had a dozen advantages that Jack
had not, and the cowboy admired him even though he was not hard as a
rock.

"Have you spoken to Captain Ellison yet?" asked Ridley eagerly.

"Says he's thinkin' about it, Art. There's goin' to be a vacancy on the
force soon. My notion is that you'll get the appointment."

It was a part of Ridley's charm for the Texan that he would not give up
to his timidity. The young fellow meant to fight it out to a finish.
That was one of the reasons why he wanted to join the Rangers, to be put
in places that would force him to go through to a fighting finish. He
had one other reason. Arthur wanted to settle a score with the
Dinsmores.

Captain Ellison was listening to the complaint of a drover.

"I aim to drive a clean herd, Cap, but you know how it is yore own self.
I start to drive in the spring when the hair's long an' the brand's hard
to read. By the time I get here, the old hair is fallin' out an' the
brand is plain. But what's a fellow to do? I cayn't drop those
off-brands by the way, can I? The inspector--"

"That's all right, Steel. The inspector knows you're on the level.
Hello, Jack! I been lookin' for you."

The Captain drew his man to one side. "Steve Gurley's in town. He came
as a spokesman for the Dinsmores an' went to see Clint Wadley. The damn
scoundrel served notice on Clint that the gang had written evidence
which tied Ford up with the