cked Gentle Annie in the stummick
this mornin'. He was goin' to milk her and I reckon she didn't like
his looks. Anyhow, she laid him out with a kind of hind-leg upper-cut.
When he come to, he set in to kickin' her. I got his picture and if I
get me hands on him . . ."

Wingle cut the rope and Sundown stood up. "They swiped me gun," he
asserted.

"Here's one I took off a herder," said Wingle. "if things get to
boilin' over--why, jest nacherally wilt the legs from under anything
that looks like a Chola. Jack's got the cards, all right--but I don't
jest like the look of things. Loring's in the corner and he's got his
back up."

As they came from the house, Loring was reading the papers that Corliss
had handed to him. The old sheep-man glanced at the signatures on the
documents and then slowly folded them, hesitated, and with a quick turn
of his wrist tore them and flung the pieces in Corliss's face. "That
for your law! We stay!"

Corliss bit his lip, and the dull red of restrained anger burned in his
face. He had gone too far to retreat or retract. He knew that his men
would lose all respect for him if he backed down now. Yet he was
unable to frame a plan whereby he might avoid the arbitration of the
six-gun. His men eyed him curiously. Was Jack going to show a yellow
streak? They thought that he would not--and yet . . .

Sundown raised his long arm and pointed. "There's the gent what kicked
me cow," he said, his face white and his eyes burning.

The punchers of the Concho laughed. "Jump him!" shouted "Bull"
Cassidy. "We'll stand by and see that there's no monkeyin'."

Corliss held up his hand. The Mexicans drew together and the age-old
hatred for the Gringo burned in their beady eyes.

Sundown's thin lips drew tight. "I've a good mind to--" he began. The
Mexican who had maltreated the cow mistook Sundown's gesture for intent
to kill. The herder's gun whipped up. Sundown grabbed a chair that
stood tilted against the house and swung it. The Mexican went down.
With the accidental explosion of the gun, Mebby-So grunted, put his
hand to his side, and toppled from the saddle. Corliss wheeled his
horse.

"Don't shoot, boys!" he shouted.

His answer was a roar of six-guns. He felt Chinook shiver. He jumped
clear as the horse rolled to its side. Sundown, retreating to the
house, flung open the bedroom window and kneeling, laid the barrel of
his gun on the sill. Deliberately he sighted, h