this here pint!"

There followed that little hush of expectancy which precedes trouble,
but Morgan, after a glance at the set lips of his opponent, swallowed
his wrath.

"I s'pose you'll tell how you did this to your kids when
you're eighty," he said scornfully, "but around here, stranger, they
don't think much of it. Whistlin' Dan"--he paused, as if to calculate
how far he could safely exaggerate--"Whistlin' Dan can stand with
his back to the coins an' when they're thrown he drills four dollars
easier than you did one--an' he wouldn't waste three shots on one
dollar. He ain't so extravagant!"

CHAPTER IV

SOMETHING YELLOW

The crowd laughed again at the excitement of Morgan, and Silent's
mirth particularly was loud and long.

"An' if you're still bent on charity," he said at last, "maybe we
could find somethin' else to lay a bet on!"

"Anything you name!" said Morgan hotly.

"I suppose," said Silent, "that you're some rider, eh?"

"I c'n get by with most of 'em."

"Yeh--I suppose you never pulled leather in your life?"

"Not any hoss that another man could ride straight up."

"Is that so? Well, partner, you see that roan over there?"

"That tall horse?"

"You got him. You c'n win back that hundred if you stick on his back
two minutes. D'you take it?"

Morgan hesitated a moment. The big roan was footing it nervously here
and there, sometimes throwing up his head suddenly after the manner of
a horse of bad temper. However, the loss of that hundred dollars and
the humiliation which accompanied it, weighed heavily on the saloon
owner's mind.

"I'll take you," he said.

A high, thrilling whistle came faintly from the distance.

"That fellow on the black horse down the road," said Lee Haines, "I
guess he's the one that can hit the four dollars? Ha! ha! ha!"

"Sure," grinned Silent, "listen to his whistle! We'll see if we can
drag another bet out of the bar-keep if the roan doesn't hurt him too
bad. Look at him now!"

Morgan was having a bad time getting his foot in the stirrup, for
the roan reared and plunged. Finally two men held his head and the
saloon-keeper swung into the saddle. There was a little silence. The
roan, as if doubtful that he could really have this new burden on his
back, and still fearful of the rope which had been lately tethering
him, went a few short, prancing steps, and then, feeling something
akin to freedom, reared straight up, snorting. The crowd yelled with
delig