s word.

"Sulky, some, I guess," the half-breed went on. "Wal, I'm not goin' back
on my word," he added as he rolled the barrel up to his prisoner and
scotched it securely. "Thar, set."

The money-lender didn't move.

"Set!" This time the word conveyed a command and the other sat down on
the barrel.

"Guess I can't stand cantankerous cusses. Now, let's have a look at yer
bracelets."

He sat beside his captive and proceeded to loosen the rope which bound
his wrists. Then he quietly drew his pistol and rested it on his knee.
Lablache enjoyed his freedom, but wondered what was coming next.

There was a moment of silence while the two men gazed at the corrals and
buildings set out before them. Away to the right, on a rising ground,
stood a magnificent house built of red pine lumber. Lablache had built
this as a dwelling for himself. For the prairie it was palatial, and
there was nothing in the country to equal it. This building alone had
cost sixty thousand dollars. On a lower level there were the great
barns. Four or five of these stood linked up by smaller buildings and
quarters for the ranch hands. Then there was a stretch of low buildings
which were the boxes built for the great man's thoroughbred stud horses.
He was possessed of six such animals, and their aggregate cost ran into
thousands of pounds, each one having been imported from England.

Then there were the corrals with their great ten-foot walls, all built
of the finest pine logs cut from the mountain forests. These corrals
covered acres of ground and were capable of sheltering five thousand
head of cattle without their capacity being taxed. It was an ideal place
and represented a considerable fortune. Lablache noticed that the
corrals were entirely empty. He longed to ask his captor for
explanation, but would not give that swarthy individual the satisfaction
of imparting unpleasant information.

However, Retief did not intend to let the money-lender off lightly. The
cruel expression of his face deepened as he followed the direction of
Lablache's gaze.

"Fine place, this," he said, with a comprehensive nod. "Cost a pile o'
dollars, I take it."

No answer.

"You ain't got much stock. Guess the boys 'ave helped themselves
liberal."

Lablache turned his face towards his companion. He was fast being drawn.

"Heard 'em gassin' about twenty thousand head some days back. Guess
they've borrowed 'em," he went on indifferently.

"You villain!" the exas