that
cougar was guilty when he looked in my eyes! There!"

The old rancher expected to be laughed at. But Dale was grave.

"Al, I know how you felt," he replied, as if they were discussing an
action of a human being. "Sure I'd hate to doubt old Tom. But he's a
cougar. An' the ways of animals are strange... Anyway, Al, I'll make
good the loss of your sheep."

"No, you won't," rejoined Auchincloss, quickly. "We'll call it off. I'm
takin' it square of you to make the offer. Thet's enough. So forget your
worry about work, if you had any."

"There's somethin' else, Al, I wanted to say," began Dale, with
hesitation. "An' it's about Beasley."

Auchincloss started violently, and a flame of red shot into his face.
Then he raised a big hand that shook. Dale saw in a flash how the old
man's nerves had gone.

"Don't mention--thet--thet greaser--to me!" burst out the rancher. "It
makes me see--red.... Dale, I ain't overlookin' that you spoke up fer
me to-day--stood fer my side. Lem Harden told me. I was glad. An' thet's
why--to-day--I forgot our old quarrel.... But not a word about thet
sheep-thief--or I'll drive you off the place!"

"But, Al--be reasonable," remonstrated Dale. "It's necessary thet I
speak of--of Beasley."

"It ain't. Not to me. I won't listen."

"Reckon you'll have to, Al," returned Dale. "Beasley's after your
property. He's made a deal--"

"By Heaven! I know that!" shouted Auchincloss, tottering up, with his
face now black-red. "Do you think thet's new to me? Shut up, Dale! I
can't stand it."

"But Al--there's worse," went on Dale, hurriedly. "Worse! Your life's
threatened--an' your niece, Helen--she's to be--"

"Shut up--an' clear out!" roared Auchincloss, waving his huge fists.

He seemed on the verge of a collapse as, shaking all over, he backed
into the door. A few seconds of rage had transformed him into a pitiful
old man.

"But, Al--I'm your friend--" began Dale, appealingly.

"Friend, hey?" returned the rancher, with grim, bitter passion. "Then
you're the only one.... Milt Dale, I'm rich an' I'm a dyin' man. I trust
nobody... But, you wild hunter--if you're my friend--prove it!... Go
kill thet greaser sheep-thief! DO somethin'--an' then come talk to me!"

With that he lurched, half falling, into the house, and slammed the
door.

Dale stood there for a blank moment, and then, taking up his rifle, he
strode away.

Toward sunset Dale located the camp of his four Mormon friends, and
rea