, Ol' Buff'ler!"

"Prairie hen on his nest is more like _him_," shouted Enoch, returning
his friend's love tap with interest, whereupon Alonzo missed twice and
fell to the floor.

"Prairie hen on yer nose!" yelled the prostrate trader, trying to swim
toward his partner. "Thar ain't no prairie beaver as kin knock me down
an' _keep_ me thar! Stan' up like a man, ye polecat! An' I kin lick
_you_, too!" he yelled, as Tom avoided his sweeping arm and hastened
toward the door. "Better run! Better run! Git 'im Enoch, ye fool!"

Tom did not reach the front door, for with astonishing speed and agility
for one so far in his cups Enoch, taking up the quarrel of his friend,
whom he presently would be fighting, leaped from the table, vaulted over
a chair, and by some miracle of drunken equilibrium landed on his feet
with his back to the door and swung both fists at the surprised
plainsman. Tom's eyes glinted, and then twinkled. He had few better
friends than these two quarrelsome traders and, stepping back, he leaped
over the prostrate and anything but silent Alonzo and darted out through
the back door, laughing at the furious squabbling he left behind.
Reaching the corner of the building, he fell into his habitual softness
of tread and slipped along the rear of the shacks on a direct course
for the place where his and Cooper's merchandise was stored.
Schoolcraft's corral loomed up in front of him and he skirted it
silently. He almost had reached its far corner when a Mexican's voice,
raised in altercation inside the inclosure, caught his ear and checked
him, balanced on one foot.

"For why he do eet?" demanded the Mexican, excitedly. "I tol' heem that
he mus' leeve Tomaz tr-rade goods by themselves. He ees goin' to Santa
Fe weethout for-rce; an' now eet ees all spoil! For what he do eet? Bah!
For hees revenge he say. What ees hees revenge like Armijo's?"

"Oh, shut yer mouth an' stop yer yowlin'," growled a gruff voice. "Eph
allus knows what he's a-doin'."

The poised listener outside the corral paused to hear no more but was
off like a shadow, his stride a long, swinging lope, for he was too wise
to dash at full speed and waste fighting breath for the sake of gaining
a few seconds. He made his devious way across a plain studded with
wagons, piles of freight and heaps of debris, and before he reached his
objective the sounds of conflict singled it out for him had he been in
any doubt.

The open wagon-shed loomed suddenly be