as he could. Now he exploded.

"What in hell do you suppose I sent for you for?" he demanded, as,
walking to and fro in the room, he paused and glared down at the range
boss. "Where you been? We're twenty calves an' a dozen cows short on
the tally!"

Leviatt looked up, his eyes suddenly flashing. "Whew!" he exclaimed.
"They're hittin' them pretty heavy lately. When was they missed?"

Stafford spluttered impotently. "Night before last," he flared. "An'
not a damned sign of where they went!"

Leviatt grinned coldly. "Them rustlers is gettin' to be pretty slick,
ain't they?" he drawled.

Stafford's face swelled with a rage that threatened to bring on
apoplexy. He brought a tense fist heavily down upon his desk top.

"Slick!" he sneered. "I don't reckon they're any slick. It's that
I've got a no good outfit. There ain't a man in the bunch could see a
rustler if he'd hobbled a cow and was runnin' her calf off before their
eyes!" He hesitated to gain breath before continuing. "What have I
got an outfit for? What have I got a range boss for? What have I
got----!"

Leviatt grinned wickedly and Stafford hesitated, his hand upraised.

"Your stray-man doin' anything these days?" questioned Leviatt
significantly. "Because if he is," resumed Leviatt, before the manager
could reply, "he ought to manage to be around where them thieves are
workin'."

Stafford stiffened. He had developed a liking for the stray-man and he
caught a note of venom in Leviatt's voice.

"I reckon the stray-man knows what he's doin'," he replied. He
returned to his chair beside the desk and sat in it, facing Leviatt,
and speaking with heavy sarcasm. "The stray-man's the only one of the
whole bunch that's doin' anything," he said.

"Sure," sneered Leviatt; "he's gettin' paid for sparkin' Mary Radford."

"Mebbe he is," returned Stafford. "I don't know as I'd blame him any
for that. But he's been doin' somethin' else now an' then, too."

"Findin' the man that's been rustlin' your stock, for instance," mocked
Leviatt.

Stafford leaned back in his chair, frowning.

"Look here, Leviatt," he said steadily. "I might have spoke a little
strong to you about them missin' cattle. But I reckon you're partly to
blame. If you'd been minded to help Ferguson a little, instead of
actin' like a fool because you've thought he's took a shine to Mary
Radford, we might have been further along with them rustlers. As it
is, Ferguson's been