ise upon his evil countenance.

Jeff moved up the room. He approached without haste. His eyes were
steady, and his expression one of tight-lipped determination. There
was something coldly commanding in his attitude. His fair, bronzed
features, keen, set, displayed no weakening. His body seemed poised
ready for everything that could possibly happen. The latent power and
vigor of his movements were tremendous. He carried no weapons of
defense in view, and his dress was a simple loose jacket over a cotton
shirt, and, for nether garments, a pair of loose riding breeches which
terminated in soft leather top-boots.

Sikkem's eyes were on him the whole time. There was even some slight
apprehension in them at the sight of that swift, voiceless approach.
Jeff came to a halt before him, and it was the ranch hand who found
speech most necessary.

"Say, I didn't guess you was gettin' around to-night, boss," he said
with some show of ease.

"No?"

"I sure didn't."

Jeff's retort flashed out.

"Then what did you send that youngster in for with mouthful of durned
lies?"

Sikkem stared. But his look was unconvincing. Moments passed before
his reply came, and in those moments the keen eyes of his employer were
busy. The man was still in the working kit of a cowpuncher. Even to
the chapps, and the prairie hat crushed down on his ugly bullet head.
Then, too, his pair of guns were still strapped about his waist. None
of these things escaped Jeff, any more than did the fellow's clumsy
regard. He wondered how much truth--if any--lay behind that mask of
wicked eyes and brutish features.

"I'm waiting."

Jeff's demand came with a rasp. The man's delay in reply had conveyed
all he wanted to know of the truth in him.

"Wot youngster? I tell you I didn't send no one in." There was
truculence in the denial. "Wot's the lies?"

The ranchman was no match for the keen mind of his employer. In brute
force he might have been more than his equal. But even that was
doubtful. While he was speaking Jeff moved. Up to that moment he had
been facing the foreman with his back turned toward the distant door.
Now his movement placed him against the table with his back to the
other empty bunk, and his focus took in not only the man before him,
but the shadowy outline of the distant half-open door.

"It's the boy we took on the other day at--your recommendation. Your
recommendation. Get me? Guess he came with the yarn you