The foreman holstered the gun and reined round toward Waring. "Now do
your talkin'," he challenged.

Waring made no movement, but sat quietly watching the other's gun hand.
"You have your gun?" he said, as though asking a question. "If you mean
business, go ahead. I'll let you get your gun out--and then I'll get
you--and you know it!" And with insulting ease he flicked his burned-out
cigarette in the foreman's face.

Without a word High Chin whirled his horse and rode toward the hills.

Waring sat watching him until Lorry spoke.

"They say he's put more than one man across the divide," he told his
father.

"But not on an even break," said Waring. "Get that hombre on his horse.
He's in bad shape."

Lorry helped Waco to mount. They rode toward Stacey.

Waring rode with them until the trail forked. "I was on my way to the
Starr Ranch," he told Lorry. "I think I can make it all right with
Starr, if you say the word."

"Not me," said Lorry. "I stand by what I do."

Waring tried to conceal the smile that crept to his lips. "All right,
Lorry. But you'll have to explain to your mother. Better turn your man
over to Buck Hardy as soon as you get in town. Where did you pick him