n-fed look about ye, Saul."

"I stayed away from home," continued Fulton, "so long as it was to my
profit to be elsewheres. Now it suits me to come back, and there isn't
room enough here for both me an' him."

The elderly feudist surveyed his visitor with a cool shrewdness, and
after a long pause he remarked drily: "Ef so be, Boone Wellver was
called ter his reward, Saul, I wouldn't hardly buy me no mournin'
clothes, but for my own self I don't dast break ther truce. Howsomever,
when a feller hits at a snake he had ought ter _git_ hit. Thet feller
thet ye hired ter lay-way him hyar of late didn't seem ter enjoy no
master luck."

"All he needed was a little overseein'," retorted Saul blandly. "That's
why I'm here now. I've got to lay low for a while because there's still
the little matter of an indictment outstandin' but the same man stands
in your light and mine--we ought to be able to do some business
together."

"Things have changed a mighty heap," demurred Tom uneasily, but Saul
laughed.

"Let's change them back, then," he responded.

The plotting of a murder is erroneously presumed by the unpracticed to
be an affair of hushed voices and deeply closeted conspirators. Between
these two craftsmen it was discussed in the calm hard-headedness of
severe practicality. To Saul, who had been long an absentee, Tom Carr's
intimate familiarity with current conditions proved a bureau of vital
statistics. To Tom, who saw in Boone a dangerous trouble-maker and who
yet hesitated to make a feud-killing of the matter, the hand of a
volunteer was welcome, and so, as they talked, a community of interests
developed. Tom was to provide Saul with an inconspicuous refuge, and
Saul was to do the rest. A few others whose active participation was
needed were to be taken into confidence, but the secret was to be held
in close-guarded circle.

It is said that no other bitterness can be so saturated as that of the
apostate, and Saul brought into Tom's presence one day a boyish fellow
whose blood was Gregory blood but whose one strong emotion seemed to be
hatred of his own breed. He had been selected by the intriguer as the
man to take in hand and carry to success the assassination of Boone
Wellver.

Into Tom's office slouched "Little" Jim Bartleton by the front way, and
into it, by back stairs, came Saul at the same time.

Until a short time back no one had thought much about Little Jim. He had
not been a positive personality until r