let's have it said outside that Fort Canibas' politics is run by
plug-uglies."

"He's right, Thelismer; you're letting them score a point on you,"
protested Presson.

But Thornton had been too grievously wounded that day to be able to
listen to peace measures. He strode down off the porch, shouting
commands. His men were willing, and MacCracken's defiance gave them the
provocation they wanted.

"If it's fight you're looking for, you spike-horn stag," announced the
boss, bursting through the press to reach the Jo Quacca champion, "we
can open a full assortment, and no trouble to show goods."

He knocked MacCracken flat, reaching over the heads of the smaller men,
and the next moment the Canadians swarmed on the fallen gladiator like
flies, lifted him and tossed him into the road. The rest of the mob
escaped. Niles's emblematic buck sheep, cropping the grass in the fence
corner, was tossed out behind the fugitives.

"I was hoping there'd be a little more cayenne in it," complained the
big boss, scrubbing his knuckles against his belted jacket.

"Come out in the road where it ain't private ground owned by the old
land-grabber," pleaded MacCracken. "I'll meet you somewhere, Ben Kyle,
where it'll have to be a fair stand-up." But Kyle gave him no further
attention.

"Take the boys into the ram pasture," directed his employer. He pointed