, looking at him
expectantly. When Slade grinned, telling Antrim that Moreton had ridden
south, Antrim's eyes glittered with satisfaction.

"Selden!" he ordered, sharply; "you slope for the Circle L trail an'
watch it! When you see Moreton an' Lawler headin' toward town, you fan
it here in a hurry!"

A tall man with two guns sagging at his hips leaped to the door and
plunged out. In the silence that followed his departure, they could hear
the thudding of hoofs that marked his going.

Antrim grinned coldly around at the other men.

"We'll clean up on Lawler tonight, boys," he said. "We've got to work
fast!"

He stood, boldly outlined in the light, a sinister figure. His cruel
lips were set tightly, his eyes were agleam. He was a symbol of passion,
rampant and unrecking--a wild, violent spirit to whom laws were irksome
shackles.

He grinned at Slade, mockingly, naked malevolence in his gaze. His voice
was harsh, vibrant.

"Slade, tonight you're goin' to get what you've been waitin' for--the
leadership! Ha, ha!" he laughed as he saw Slade's face work with the
bitter rage that instantly seized him. "You thought I didn't know you
wanted my place--eh? Bah! I've known it for a year. You're ambitious,
eh? Well, listen!

"Tonight you're leadin' this little party. You're to run off them cattle
of Lawler's--three thousand head--which he euchered me out of last fall.
You're takin' three thousand head, Slade--not a one less. If you take
less you're through with me. You'll run 'em down through Kinney's canon,
clear through to the big basin beyond. At the other end you'll head 'em
south, to Mexico--where we've been runnin' 'em for three years past.
You'll take a receipt for them from a guy named Miguel Lomo, who will
be waitin' for you at Panya--where you knifed that Oiler last summer.
Warden arranged that.

"You'll post a dozen men in Kinney's canon, to drop anyone that follows.
There's goin' to be no excuses, or you settle with me--afterward.
Understand?"

Slade's eyes glared with savage triumph and defiance. He grinned
felinely at the other, and when he spoke there was cold, taunting
contempt in his voice.

"I'm doin' it, Antrim! I'm tickled to get the chance. But where are you
goin' to be tonight?"

Antrim flushed darkly. He laughed. "I'm figurin' to do a man's
work--tonight or tomorrow, Slade. Somethin' that you ain't got nerve
enough to do--I'm goin' to face Kane Lawler when he's riled, with a gun
in his hand!