philosophically. The latter was not the only man he had seen who had
been defeated by the law. Over in Colfax County and up in Wyoming he had
dealt with many such men, and usually, after they had seen that the law
was inevitable, they had resigned themselves to the new condition and
had become pretty fair citizens. He had imagined that Dunlavey would
prove to be no exception, that after the first sting of defeat had been
removed he would meet his adversaries half way in an effort to patch up
their differences. The danger was in the time immediately following the
realization of defeat. A man of the Dunlavey type was then usually
desperate.

So Allen communed with himself as he rode at a head-long pace down the
Coyote trail, risking his neck a dozen times. Not once since he had left
Dry Bottom had he considered his own danger.

He had been riding more than half an hour, and was coming up out of a
little gully when he came upon a riderless pony, and close by it,
browsing near a clump of shrubbery, another. He recognized one of them
instantly as Dunlavey's, and his teeth came together with a snap. He
rode closer to the other pony, examining it. On one of its hips was a
brand--the Circle Bar. Allen's face whitened again. He had arrived too
late. But he would not be too late to wreak vengeance upon Dunlavey.

He dismounted and cautiously approached the brush at the side of the
trail. Parting it, he saw the roof of a cabin. He recognized it; he had
passed it a number of times during his exploration of the country. He
drew back and crept crept farther along in the brush, certain that he
would presently see Dunlavey. But he had not gone very far when he heard
voices and he cautiously parted the brush again and peered through.

He started back in surprise, an incredulous grin slowly appearing on his
face. The incredulity changed to amusement a moment later--when he heard
Hollis's voice!

The young man was seated on the edge of the porch--smoking a pipe! Near
him, seated on a flat rock, his face horribly puffed out, with several
ugly gashes disfiguring it, his eyes blackened, his clothing in tatters,
one hand hanging limply by his side, the fingers crushed and bleeding,
was Dunlavey! Near him, almost buried in the sand, was a revolver.
Allen's smile broadened when he saw Dunlavey's empty holster. Evidently
he had met with a surprise!

While taking in these details Allen had not forgotten to listen to
Hollis as the latter ta