Gregg was used to fighting or paying his way, or doing both at the
same time, as occasion offered. He decided that this was certainly an
occasion for much money and few words.

"You're Doone, I guess," he said, "and you know that I've played a
pretty bad trick on you, taking your hoss this way. But I wanted to
pay for it, Doone, and I'll pay now. I've got to get to Stillwater
before that train. Look at her! I haven't hurt her any. Her wind isn't
touched. She's pretty wet, but sweat never hurt nothing on four feet,
eh?"

"I dunno," returned Ronicky Doone. "I'd as soon run off with a man's
wife as his hoss."

"Partner," said Bill Gregg desperately, "I have to get there!"

"Then get there on your own feet, not the feet of another gent's
hoss."

Gregg controlled his rising anger. Beyond him the train was looming
larger and larger in the plain, and Stillwater seemed more and more
distant. He writhed in the saddle.

"I tell you I'll pay--I'll pay the whole value of the hoss, if you
want."

He was about to say more when he saw the eyes of Ronicky Doone widen
and fix.

"Look," said the other suddenly, "you've been cutting her up with the