contempt and called attention to the fact that the constable resided
with them. Thus honors were even.

Steve Packard rode into town in the late afternoon, his motive
clear-cut, his need urgent. If Blenham had stolen his ten thousand
dollars for which he had so imperative a call now, then Blenham had
been the one who had replaced the large bank-notes with the small;
there was the chance that Blenham, just a week ago to-night, had gotten
the dollar bills in Red Creek. If such were the case Packard meant to
know it.

"There are things, Barbee," he had said bluntly, "which I can't tell
you yet; I don't know you well enough. But this I can say: I am out to
get Blenham's tag."

"So'm I," said Barbee.

"That's one reason you've got the job you're holding down right now.
Here's one point though, which it's up to you to know; I very much
suspect that for reasons of his own Blenham hasn't set foot for the
last time on Ranch Number Ten. He'll come back; he'll come snooping
around at night; he'll perhaps have a way of knowing the first night
I'm away and come then. There's something he left there that he wants.
At least that is the way I'm stringing my bet. And while I am away
you're foreman, Barbee."

A flickering light danced in Barbee's blue eyes.

"Orders from you, if Blenham shows up at night----"

"To throw a gun on him and run him out! The quickest way. To-night I
want you to squat out under a tree and keep awake--all night. For
which you can have two days off if you want."

"If I thought he'd show," and the boy's voice was little more than an
eager whisper, "I couldn't sleep if I tried!"

Then Packard had spoken a little about Red Creek, asking his few
questions and had learned that Blenham had his friends in "Packard's
Town" where Dan Hodges of the Ace of Diamonds saloon was an old pal,
that "Whitey" Wimble of the Old Trusty saloon across the street hated
both Hodges and Blenham like poison.

"Us boys," added Barbee, "always hung out at the Ace of Diamonds, bein'
Packard's men. After now, when I go on a rampage, I'm goin' to make
frien's across the street. Friends sometimes comes in handy in Red
Creek," he added smilingly.

The road, as one comes into Red Creek from the east, divides at the
first bridge, one fork becoming the northern half of the intersected
street, the other the southern half. Steve Packard, filling his eyes
with the two rows of similar shacks, hesitated briefly.

Until