eal name was no man knew. Nor was his past a
subject for conversation in his presence. It was known that he had been
in the Nevada penitentiary, and that he had killed a man in Arizona, but
these details of an active life were rarely resurrected. For Chalkeye
was deadly on the shoot, and was ready for it at the drop of the
hat, though he had his good points too. One of these was a remarkable
fondness for another member of the party, a mere lad, called by his
companions Hughie. Generally surly and morose, to such a degree that
even his chief was careful to humor him as a rule, when with Hughie all
the softer elements of his character came to the surface. In his rough
way he was ever humorous and genial.

Jim McWilliams found him neither, however. He declined to engage in
conversation, accepted a proffer of tobacco with a silent, hostile grunt
and relapsed into a long silence that lasted till his shift was ended.

"Hate to have y'u leave, old man. Y'u're so darned good company I'll
ce'tainly pine for you," the foreman suggested, with sarcasm, when
the old man rolled up in his blankets preparatory to falling asleep
immediately.

Chalkeye's successor was a blatant youth much impressed with his own
importance. He was both foul-mouthed and foul-minded, so that Jim
was constrained to interrupt his evil boastings by pretending to fall
asleep.

It was nearly two o'clock when the foreman aroused his friend to take
his turn. Shortly after this the lad Hughie relieved the bragging,
would-be bad man.

Hughie was a flaxen-haired, rather good-looking boy of nineteen. In his
small, wistful face was not a line of wickedness, though it was plain
that he was weak. He seemed so unfit for the life he was leading that
the sheepman's interest was aroused. For on the frontier it takes a
strong, competent miscreant to be a bad man and survive. Ineffectives
and weaklings are quickly weeded out to their graves or the
penitentiaries.

The boy was manifestly under great fear of his chief, but the curly
haired young Hermes who kept watch with him had a very winning smile and
a charming manner when he cared to exert it. Almost in spite of himself
the youngster was led to talk. It seemed that he had but lately joined
the Teton-Shoshones outfit of desperadoes, and between the lines
Bannister easily read that his cousin's masterful compulsion had coerced
the young fellow. All he wanted was an opportunity to withdraw in
safety, but he knew he cou