llon.

"'Lo, Red Haid," the justice sang out squeakily. "How's yore good health?
I heerd you was d-drowned. Is you is, or is you ain't? Sit down an' rest
yore weary bones."

"I took a swim," admitted Bob. "The boys fished me out while I was still
kickin'."

"Rivers all high?"

"Not so high as they were. We noticed quite a difference on the way
back."

"Well, s-sit down an' tell me all about it. How do you like ridin', Texas
man?"

"Like it fine."

"All yore troubles blown away?"

"Most of 'em. I'm a long way from being a wolf yet, though."

"So? B-by the way, there's a friend of yours in town--Jake Houck."

There was a moment's pause. "Did he say he was my friend?" asked Bob.

"Didn't mention it. Thought maybe you'd like to know he's here. It's not
likely he'll trouble you."

"I'd be glad to be sure of that. Dud an' I had a little run-in with him
last month. He wasn't hardly in a position then to rip loose, seein' as
he had my horse an' saddle in his camp an' didn't want Harshaw in his
wool. So he cussed us out an' let it go at that. Different now. I'm
playin' a lone hand--haven't got the boss back of me."

"F-fellow drifted in from Vernal yesterday," the justice piped, easing
himself in his chair. "Told a s-story might interest you. Said Jake Houck
had some trouble with a y-young Ute buck over a hawss. Houck had been
drinkin', I reckon. Anyhow he let the Injun have it in the stomach.
Two-three shots outa his six-gun. The Utes claimed it was murder. Jake he
didn't wait to adjust no claims, but lit out on the jump."

"Won't the Government get him?"

The fat man shrugged. "Oh, well, a Ute's a Ute. Point is that Houck, who
always was a t-tough nut, has gone bad since the boys rode him on a rail.
He's proud as Lucifer, an' it got under his hide. He's kinda cuttin'
loose an' givin' the devil in him free rein. Wouldn't surprise me if he
turned into a killer of the worst kind."

Bob's eyes fastened to his uneasily. "You think he's--after me?"

"I think he'll d-do to watch."

"Yes, but--"

Blister rolled a cigarette and lit it before he asked casually, "Stayin'
long in town?"

"Leavin' to-day for the ranch."

"What size gun you carry for rattlesnakes?"

"Mine's a forty-five." Bob took it out, examined it, and thrust the
weapon between his trousers and his shirt. If he felt any mental
disturbance he did not show it except in the anxious eyes.

Blister changed the subject lightly. "Hear anything ab-