Steele related a circumstance differing little from other attempts at
his life, and concluded by saying that Snecker was a good runner if he
was not a good shot.

I finished the bandaging and stood off, admiring Steele's magnificent
shoulders. I noted, too, on the fine white skin more than one scar made
by bullets. I got an impression that his strength and vitality were like
his spirit--unconquerable!

"So you knew it was Bill Snecker's son?" I asked when I had told him
about finding the rustler.

"Sure. Jim Hoden pointed him out to me yesterday. Both the Sneckers are
in town. From now on we're going to be busy, Russ."

"It can't come too soon for me," I replied. "Shall I chuck my job? Come
out from behind these cowboy togs?"

"Not yet. We need proof, Russ. We've got to be able to prove things.
Hang on at the ranch yet awhile."

"This Bo Snecker was scared stiff till he recognized Wright. Isn't that
proof?"

"No, that's nothing. We've got to catch Sampson and Wright red-handed."

"I don't like the idea of you trailing along alone," I protested.
"Remember what Neal told me. I'm to kick. It's time for me to hang round
with a couple of guns. You'll never use one."