r Sinclair seen Whispering Smith
until the night Du Sang spotted him near the wheel in the Three
Horses. Du Sang at once drew out of his game and left the room.
Sinclair in the meantime had undertaken a quarrelsome interview with
Whispering Smith.

"I supposed you knew I was here," said Smith to him amiably. "Of
course I don't travel in a private car or carry a bill-board on my
back, but I haven't been hiding."

"The last time we talked," returned Sinclair, measuring words
carefully, "you were going to stay out of the mountains."

"I should have been glad to, Murray. Affairs are in such shape on the
division now that somebody had to come, so they sent for me."

The two men were sitting at a table. Whispering Smith was cutting and
leisurely mixing a pack of cards.

"Well, so far as I'm concerned, I'm out of it," Sinclair went on after
a pause, "but, however that may be, if you're back here looking for
trouble there's no reason, I guess, why you can't find it."

"That's not it. I'm not here looking for trouble; I'm here to fix this
thing up. What do you want?"

"Not a thing."

"I'm willing to do anything fair and right," declared Whispering
Smith, raising his voice a little above the hum of the rooms.

"Fair and right is an old song."

"And a good one to sing in this country just now. I'll do anything I
can to adjust any grievance, Murray. What do you want?"

Sinclair for a moment was silent, and his answer made plain his
unwillingness to speak at all. "There never would have been a
grievance if I'd been treated like a white man." His eyes burned
sullenly. "I've been treated like a dog."

"That is not it."

"That is it," declared Sinclair savagely, "and they'll find it's it."

"Murray, I want to say only this--only this to make things clear.
Bucks feels that he's been treated worse than a dog."

"Then let him put me back where I belong."

"It's a little late for that, Murray; a _little_ late," said Smith
gently. "Shouldn't you rather take good money and get off the
division? Mind you, I say good money, Murray--and peace."

Sinclair answered without the slightest hesitation: "Not while that
man McCloud is here."

Whispering Smith smiled. "I've got no authority to kill McCloud."

"There are plenty of men in the mountains that don't need any."

"But let's start fair," urged Whispering Smith softly. He leaned
forward with one finger extended in confidence. "Don't let us have any
misunderstanding on t