he conviction of the low-down
trick that had been played upon him by one whom he regarded as a dear,
younger brother.

He drew rein at the saloon and flung out of the saddle. He mechanically
hitched his horse to the tie-post. Then, with unconscious aggressiveness,
he strode up to the building and pushed his way through the swing doors.

The bar was empty, an unusual enough circumstance at that time of the
day to draw comment from any one who knew the habits of the men of
Barnriff; but Thorpe did not notice it. His eyes were on the man
behind the counter standing ready to serve him. He strode over to him
and flung down a ten-dollar bill, ordering a drink of whiskey, and a
bottle of the spirit to take away with him. He was promptly served,
and Silas Rocket, the proprietor, civilly passed the time of day. It
elicited no responsive greeting, for Jim gulped down his drink, and
helped himself to another. The second glass of the fiery spirit he
swallowed greedily, while Rocket looked on in amazement. As he
proceeded to pour out another the man's astonishment found vent.

"A third?" he said stupidly.

Jim deigned no answer, but drank the liquor down, and set the glass
forcefully upon the counter.

The saloon-keeper quickly recovered himself. Nor was he slow to
comment.

"Feelin' mean, some?" he observed, with a sympathetic wink. He cared
little how his visitor took his remark. He was used to the vagaries of
his customers, and cared not a snap of the fingers for them.

Jim's reply came swiftly.

"Yes, mean enough to need your hogwash," he said shortly.

Silas Rocket's eyes snapped. He was never a man to take things sitting
down.

"Hogwash it is when a feller o' your manners swills it. Mebbe it'll
clear some o' the filth off'n your measly chest. Have one on me; I'd
be real glad to help in the cleanin' process."

There was a subtle threat underlying his last words. But Jim cared
nothing for what he said.

"I'll pay for all I need," he retorted, turning from the counter, and
bearing his bottle away over to the window.

Rocket shrugged and turned to his work of setting some sort of order
among his bottles. But, as Jim stood at the window with his back
turned, his narrow eyes frequently regarded him and his busy brain
speculated as to his humor. The ranchman was well liked in Barnriff,
but his present attitude puzzled the worthy host.

However, the object of all this attention was wholly unaware of it.
Even if it h