ed his mission, looked at him strangely before
speaking.

"What's doin' at the Mowbray house?" he asked. "We all uptown was some
curious last evenin' when we heard so much shootin'."

"Nothing much," said Ted. "Just a little pistol practice."

The old man grinned.

"Yuh musta kep' ther targets warm some from ther way ther poppin'
sounded up yere," he said dryly.

"Yes, it was rather warm for a while. Well, can I have the wagon, and a
driver to bring it back?"

"I don't know whether I can spare one or not. Yuh see, it's some
dangerous ter take sides in this town."

"I don't want you to take my side. All I want is to complete a business
transaction with you. I want you to hire me a wagon and team for a day.
You understand what I want?"

"Yes, but, yuh see, that would be considered as givin' succor ter ther
enemy."

"I don't understand why."

"It's this way: Judge Harris owns this stable an' rents it to me by ther
month. He could kick me out to-morrow if he wanted to. He's a queer
dick, an' him an' Burk, what, I understand, was at ther Mowbray house
yesterday, and what had ter run away, is as close as two sheets o'
sticky fly paper."

"He is, eh?"

"Yes; an' the coroner, the jailer, the mayor, the sheriff, an' everybody
else what has any power er authority, is in the same boat. They all hang
together, an' they're all friends o' Mr. Mowbray. Lord Mowbray they
calls him."

"Ah, ha!" thought Ted. "If that is the case, it behooves us to get out
of town and to Bubbly Well with our property as soon as we can."

After some further talk Ted was still unable to get the old man to rent
him a wagon. Then he changed his tactics.

"Well," he said, in a firm voice, "if you won't rent me the wagon and
team I'll be obliged to confiscate it for the United States."

"Eh, how is that?"

"I said I would take it for the uses of the United States. Come, roll it
out and hitch up before I have to resort to violence."

"I don't know you, bub. I'm from Missouri. You'll have to show me."

Ted exposed his star of authority.

"Does that go?" he asked. "Because if it don't, this will."

His revolver was out of its holster like a flash, much to the surprise
of the liveryman, who had been somewhat of a bad man himself in his day,
and gun plays were not uncommon at Rodeo.

He gazed mildly into the bore of the big, silver-mounted forty-five, and
then murmured:

"It goes, pal."

CHAPTER XX.

KNIFE AND FANG.

Seve