against this man of
steel. Already his head was singing so that he saw hazily.

The finish came quickly. The cowboy saw his chance, feinted with his
left and sent a heavy body blow to the heart. The knees of the other
sagged. He sank down and did not try to rise again.

Presently his companions helped him to his feet. "He--he took me by
surprise," explained the beaten man with a faint attempt at bluster.

"I'll bet I did," assented Jack cheerfully. "An' I'm liable to surprise
you again if you call me a liar a second time."

"You've said about enough, my friend," snarled the man who had been
spoken to as Dinsmore. "You get away with this because the fight was on
the square, but don't push yore luck too far."

The three men passed out of the front door. Roberts turned to the
barkeeper.

"I reckon the heavy-set one is Pete Dinsmore. The cock-eyed guy must be
Steve Gurley. But who is the young fellow I had the mixup with?"

The man behind the bar gave information promptly. "He's Rutherford
Wadley--son of the man who signs yore pay-checks. Say, I heard Buck
Nelson needs a mule-skinner, in case you're lookin' for a job."

Jack felt a sudden sinking of the heart. He had as good as told the son
of his boss that he was a rustler, and on top of that he had given him a
first-class lacing. The air-castles he had been building came tumbling
down with a crash. He had already dreamed himself from a trail foreman
to the majordomo of the A T O ranch. Instead of which he was a
line-rider out of a job.

"Where can I find Nelson?" he asked with a grin that found no echo in
his heart. "Lead me to him."

CHAPTER IV

TEX GRANDSTANDS

Clint Wadley, massive and powerful, slouched back in his chair with one
leg thrown over an arm of it. He puffed at a corncob pipe, and through
the smoke watched narrowly with keen eyes from under heavy grizzled
brows a young man standing on the porch steps.

"So now you know what I expect, young fellow," he said brusquely. "Take
it or leave it; but if you take it, go through."

Arthur Ridley smiled. "Thanks, I'll take it."

The boy was not so much at ease as his manner suggested. He knew that
the owner of the A T O was an exacting master. The old cattleman was
game himself. Even now he would fight at the drop of the hat if
necessary. In the phrase which he had just used, he would "go through"
anything he undertook. Men who had bucked blizzards with him in the old
days admitted that Clin