the wide reaches of the Sulphur Springs valley,
level as a floor, as tawny as a lion's skin.

Then he descended from the sky-lined pinnacles of granite to the
plain. Under the blazing heavens pony and rider showed upon that
glowing surface as a tiny dot; a dot that moved slowly on and on until
the yellow-brown carpet of the bunch-grass came to an end and was
replaced by a gleaming sheet of alkali. Before that crawling dot the
mirage wavered and undulated like a weirdly painted back-drop stirring
in the wind.

The dot crept on, took strange new shapes that changed phantasmally,
then vanished behind the curtain of which for a passing moment it had
been a part. Thus young Breckenbridge rode beyond the dominion of the
written law and was swallowed up by no-man's-land.

When he had started forth from Tombstone he merely knew his errand; he
owned no plan. Now as the splendid star-lit nights followed the long,
blazing days he began, to see a course of action and this led him on,
until one day he came down into the San Simon country and rode into
the town of Galeyville.

The enterprising citizen whose cattle-buying business helped to keep
dollars spinning across the bars of this outlaw metropolis was mildly
curious when young Breckenbridge introduced himself that afternoon.
The presence of a sheriff's deputy was enough to set any one to
thinking in those days.

His curiosity gave way to unspoken wonder as the caller unfolded his
mission and stated the name of the man whom he wanted to see. Anyhow,
this meeting promised to be worth while witnessing; the cattle-buyer
said as much.

"Reckon we'll find him up the street right now," he added, and led the
way to a near-by saloon.

There were a number of men in the place when the pair entered; a
quintet playing cards, and as many others scattered about a quiet
pool-game. And one burly fellow was lying on a poker-table, curled up
for all the world like a sleeping dog. Now and then one of the
gamblers would lift his head to take a look at the new-comers, and for
a brief instant young Breckenbridge would find himself gazing into a
pair of hard, steady eyes. Then the eyes would be lowered and the
player would go on with the game.

It was during this uncomfortable interval of general sizing-up that
the proprietor entered, a red-faced man and short of stature. He had
been out to get a bucket of water; he set the pail down by the end of
the bar and filled a tin cup from it.

"H