ually.

"McLagan's quit me on account of those cattle," Jim admitted,
frankly.

"Those wi' your brand on?"

"Sure."

Doc smiled. He could not well have failed to become the leader of this
village. Power was written in every line of his hard, shrewd face.

The moment the drinks had been served and heartily consumed, he
addressed himself to the company generally. And, at his first words,
Smallbones flashed a wicked look of triumph into the face of Jim
Thorpe.

"It's this cattle-rustlin'," he said, coming to the point at once.
"It's got to quit, an' it's right up to us to see it does quit. I
ain't come here like a politician, nor a sky-pilot to talk the rights
an' wrongs of things. It's not in my line ladlin' out psalms an'
things. Ther's folks paid fer that sort o' hogwash. It's jest been
decided to run a gang o' vigilantes over this district, an' every
feller called upon's expected to roll up prompt. I've been around an'
located twelve of the boys from the ranges. I want eight more. With me
it'll make twenty-one. Smallbones," he proceeded, turning on the
hardware merchant with an authority that would not be denied, "you'll
make one. You two fellers, Jake, an' you, carpenter--that's three.
You, Rust--that's four. Long Pete an' you, Sam Purdy, an' Crook
Wilson; you three ain't doin' a heap hangin' around this bum
canteen--that's seven." His eyes suddenly sought Jim's, and a cold
command fell upon his victim even before his words came. "Guess, under
the circ's," he remarked pointedly, "you'd best make the eighth."

But Jim shook his head. A light of determination, as keen as the
doctor's own, shone in the smiling eyes that confronted the man of
authority.

"Not for mine, Doc," he said deliberately. "Not on your life. Here, I
don't want any mistake," he hastened on, as he watched the anger leap
into the other's face, and beheld the sparkle of malice lighting the
beady eyes of Smallbones. "Just listen to me. If you'll take a look
around you'll see a number of fellers, mostly good fellers, more than
half of 'em believing me to be the rustler they're all looking for.
Well, for one thing you can't put me on a vigilance committee with
folks suspecting me. It isn't fair either way, to me or them. Then, in
the second place, I've got a say. I tell you, Doc, straight up and
down, as man to man, I don't hunt with hounds that are snapping at my
shoulders in the run. I'm either a rustler or I'm not. I choose to say
I'm not.