The figure struck a match and lighted a cigarette. Bartley at once
recognized him as one of Sneed's men. Resenting the other's question and
his attitude of easy familiarity, Bartley ignored his presence.

"Hard of hearin'?" queried Hull.

"Rather."

"I said: Was you ridin'?"

"Yesterday," replied Bartley.

Hull blew a whiff of smoke in Bartley's face. It seemed casual, but was
intended as an insult. Bartley flushed, and realizing that the other was
there to intercept any action on his part to aid Cheyenne, he dropped
Joshua's reins, and without the slightest warning of his intent--in
fact, Hull thought the Easterner was stooping to pick up the
reins--Bartley launched a haymaker that landed with a loud crack on
Hull's unguarded chin, and Hull's head snapped back. Bartley jumped
forward and shot another one to the same spot. Hull's head hit the edge
of the doorway as he went down.

He lay there, inert, a queer blur in the half-light. Bartley licked his
skinned knuckles.

"He may resent this, when he wakes up," he murmured. "I believe I'll tie
him."

Bartley took Joshua's tie-rope and bound Mr. Hull's arms and legs,