h pleasure. He had not known whether the cattleman
would approve what he had done, and after the long strain of the trip
this endorsement of his actions was more to him than food or drink.

"They say I'm kinda stubborn. I didn't aim to lie down and let those guys
run one over me," he said.

"Yore stubbornness is money in my pocket. Do you want to go back and ride
for the Fifty-Four Quarter Circle?"

"Maybe, after a while, Mr. West. I got business in Denver for a few
days."

The cattleman smiled. "Most of my boys have when they hit town, I
notice."

"Mine ain't that kind. I reckon it's some more stubbornness," explained
Dave.

"All right. When you've finished that business I can use you."

If Dave could have looked into the future he would have known that the
days would stretch into months and the months to years before his face
would turn toward ranch life again.

CHAPTER XII

THE LAW PUZZLES DAVE

Dave knew he was stubborn. Not many men would have come on such a
wild-goose chase to Denver in the hope of getting back a favorite horse
worth so little in actual cash. But he meant to move to his end
intelligently.

If Miller and Doble were in the city they would be hanging out at some
saloon or gambling-house. Once or twice Dave dropped in to Chuck Weaver's
place, where the sporting men from all over the continent inevitably
drifted when in Denver. But he had little expectation of finding the men
he wanted there. These two rats of the underworld would not attempt to
fleece keen-eyed professionals. They would prey on the unsophisticated.

His knowledge of their habits took him to that part of town below
Lawrence Street. While he chatted with his foot on the rail, a glass of
beer in front of him, he made inconspicuous inquiries of bartenders. It
did not take him long to strike the trail.

"Two fellows I knew in the cattle country said they were comin' to
Denver. Wonder if they did. One of 'em's a big fat guy name o'
Miller--kinda rolls when he walks. Other's small and has a glass eye.
Called himself George Doble when I knew him."

"Come in here 'most every day--both of 'em. Waitin' for the Festival of
Mountain and Plain to open up. Got some kinda concession. They look to
yours truly like--"

The bartender pulled himself up short and began polishing the top of the
bar vigorously. He was a gossipy soul, and more than once his tongue had
got him into trouble.

"You was sayin'--" suggested the cowbo