fell to the ground in a dead faint."

"Oh, that's the way ye put it, is it? An' so ye left the young lassie
a-lyin' thar on the snow, while ye took to yer heels with the dog after
ye. Didn't ye stop to think that there might be other dogs around what
would hurt the woman? Oh, no, ye never thought of that. Ye may tell
what ye like, but that lassie up yon has another story, which I jist
told."

"It's a lie, I tell you; a job put up against me! and you, you
confounded meddler, will answer for this!"

"Mebbe I will, man," and Pete's eyes gleamed with a light which spoke
danger. "At present the matter lies atween you an' the lassie, so I
leave the b'ys here to jedge which to believe. But as we are now
acquainted, I'd like to ax ye another question."

"Spit it out, then."

"Haven't I seed ye afore, Bill Pritchen?"

"H-- if I know."

"But ye do know. Ye know very well that I met ye on the trail in 'Dead
Man's Land,' last Fall."

"You must have been dreaming then."

"No, I wasn't a-dreamin' an' ye know I wasn't."

"Well, suppose you did meet me, what of it?"

"I'll tell ye what I want," and Pete moved nearer. "I want to know
what's become of that fine young chap what was out with ye, the lad
what had the fiddle?"

"How do I know? I can't keep track of every idiot who happens to meet
me on the trail and travels along with me for a time."

"But I tell ye ye do know, an' what's more, I'm here to find out."

"Then you'll find out something else!" cried Pritchen, as his hand
dropped to his hip pocket.

He was quick, but Pete was quicker, for almost like a flash a huge hand
reached out, seized the revolver, and wrenched it from the villain's
grasp. With an oath the latter sprang forward to strike, but he was as
a child in the giant's terrible grip. He struggled for awhile, writhed
in agony, and then sank upon the floor.

"Git up, ye coward! Git up, an' answer me!"

Pete's voice was terrible, and his eyes blazed as he bent over the
prostrate man, who made no effort to move.

"Git up, I tell ye!" again came the command. "Git up an' explain what
ye did to Kenneth Radhurst!"

Receiving no reply, he continued:

"Then I'll tell the men what ye did, ye coward. Ye left 'im a sick
man, to starve, to die in the Ibex cabin; that's what ye did. Ye stole
his gold, an' left 'im thar."

"You lie!" came from the prostrate man.

"It's no lie, I tell ye that. An' what's more, when the parson came
along, ca