lked to Dunlavey. Apparently Hollis had about
finished his talk, for his voice was singularly soft and even, and
Dunlavey's almost comical air of dejection could not have settled over
him in an instant.

"... and so of course I had to thrash you--you had it coming to you. You
haven't been a man--you've acted like a sneak and a cur all through this
business. You made a thrashing inevitable when you set Yuma on Nellie
Hazelton. You'll have plenty of marks to remind you of the one you gave
me that night." He pointed to his cheek. "I've got even for that. But I
think I wouldn't have trimmed you quite so bad if you hadn't tried to
shoot me a few minutes ago."

He puffed silently at his pipe for a short time, during which Dunlavey
sat on the rock and squinted pathetically at him. Then he resumed:

"I've heard people talk of damned fools, but never, until I met you,
have I been unfortunate enough to come into personal contact with one. I
should think that when you saw the soldiers had come you would have
surrendered decently. Perhaps you know by now that you can't fight the
United States Army--and that you can't whip me. If you've got any sense
left at all you'll quit fighting now and try your best to be a good
citizen."

He smiled grimly as he rose from the porch and walked to where Dunlavey
sat, standing over him and looking down at him.

"Dunlavey," he said, extending his right hand to the beaten man, "let's
call it quits. You've been terribly worked up, but you ought to be over
it now. You ought to be able to see that it doesn't go. I've thrashed
you pretty badly, but you and your men used me up pretty well that night
and so it's an even thing. Let's shake and be friends. If you show signs
of wanting to be a man again I'll withdraw the charge of cattle
stealing which I have placed against you, and I imagine I won't have any
trouble in inducing Allen to call off that auction sale and accept
settlement of the claim against you."

Until now Dunlavey had avoided looking at the outstretched hand. But now
he looked at it, took it and held it for an instant, his bruised and
swollen face taking on an expression of lugubrious self-pity.

"I reckon I've got it in the neck all around," he said finally. "But I
ain't no squealer and I've got----" His gaze met Hollis's and his eyes
gleamed with a reluctant admiration. "By God, you're white! I reckon you
could have tore the rest of me apart like you did my hand." He held up
the i