feeling, and he was
prepared to accept the consequences.

And, later in the day, when he saw Haydon ride in, dismount and cast a
surprised glance at the empty corral, he knew that the moment for which
he had planned, had come.

Woodward was nowhere in sight; and Harlan, who had been in the
blacksmith-shop, made himself visible to Haydon by stepping outside.

Haydon called to him, sharply; and Harlan walked slowly to where the
outlaw chief stood, a saturnine grin on his face, his eyes alight with a
cold humor that might have been illuminating to Haydon had he taken the
trouble to look into them.

Haydon was laboring under some strong passion. He was suppressing it with
an effort, but it showed in his tensed muscles and in his flushed face.

"Where are the cattle?" he demanded, his voice a trifle hoarse.

"They're headed for Willow Wells--where you've been sellin' them."

"By whose orders?" Haydon's voice was choked with passion.

"Mine," drawled Harlan. Harlan might have explained that the stock had
been suffering in the crowded enclosure, thus assuaging Haydon's wrath.
But he gave no explanation--that would have been a revelation of
eagerness to escape blame and the possible consequences of his act.
Instead of explaining he looked steadily into Haydon's eyes, his own cold
and unblinking.

He saw Haydon's wrath flare up--it was in the heightened color that
spread upward above the collar of his shirt; he saw the man's terrific
effort at self-control; and his look grew bitter with insolence.

"What's botherin' you?" he said.

"The cattle--damn it!" shouted Haydon. "What in hell do you mean by
sending them away without orders?"

"I'm havin' my say, Haydon. We agreed to split everything three ways.
Authority to give orders goes with that. That was the agreement. A man's
got to be either a captain or a private, an' I've never played second to
any man. I ain't beginnin' now."

"Why, damn you!" gasped Haydon. His eyes were aglare with a terrible rage
and hate; he stepped backward a little, bending his right arm, spreading
the fingers.

Harlan had made no move, but the light in his eyes betrayed his complete
readiness for the trouble that Haydon plainly meditated.

"Yes," he said, slowly, drawling his words, a little! "It's come to that,
I reckon. You've got to flash your gun now, or take it back. No man
cusses me an' gets away with it. Get goin'!"

Haydon stood, swaying from side to side, in the grip of a mig