ue my investigations in the way I choose. Your work shan't suffer.
If I don't lay my hands on the thief or thieves in a month's time,
then write me down a wrong 'un. If I do round 'em up I'll at once take
my leave of you, for I've no use for a man of your evident calibre."

He was standing when he finished speaking. His dark eyes said far more
than his words, and the clenching hands at his sides conveyed a threat
that Dan was quick to perceive. However he felt the other's words he
gave no sign. And his attitude was once more disconcerting and
puzzling to the furious Jim. He wanted one of those outbursts of
Celtic passion he was used to; he wanted a chance to hand out
unrestrained the fury that was working up to such a pitch inside him.
But the opportunity was not given. Dan spoke coldly and quietly, a
process which maddened the injured man.

"Words make elegant pictures," he said, "an' I hate pictures. See
here, Jim Thorpe, you've ladled it out good an' plenty. Now I'm goin'
to pass you a dipper o' hash. There's the cattle; there's your brands;
there's wher' they was found. Three nuts that need crackin'. You guess
you're goin' to crack them nuts. Wal, I'd say it's up to you. Crack
'em. An'--you needn't to stop here to do it. You can get right out an'
do the crackin' where you like. An' when you've cracked 'em, an' you
feel like it,--mind, I don't ask you to--you can come along and you'll
find this shack still standin'. That, too, is up to you. Meanwhiles,
Joe Bloc'll slep right here. Guess you'll be startin' out crackin'
nuts to-morrow morning. There's just one thing I'd like to say before
partin', Jim," he added, his frigidity thawing slightly. "I'm a
cattleman first an' last. It's meat and drink an' pocket-money to me.
My calibre don't cut any figure when there's cattle stealin' doing. As
sure as St. Patrick got busy with the snakes, I'd help to hang the
last cattle-rustler, an' dance on his face after he was dead--if he
was my own brother. Think o' that, and maybe you'll understand
things."

He rose from the bed and walked out of the hut without waiting for a
reply.

For a full minute Jim stood staring after him through the doorway.
Then his eyes came back to the branding-iron on the bed. He stared at
it. Then he picked it up and mechanically examined the stars at the
end of it. Suddenly he flung it out of sight under the bed where it
had come from, and sat on the blankets with his face resting in his
hands.