s I'll wash up, first," he said, gazing about as though
looking for the wherewithal to wash. He knew well enough where the basin
was. He had noticed it out by the kitchen door, when he rode up to the
cabin. Sneed told him where to find the basin. Cheyenne stepped round
the cabin. Covertly he glanced toward the edge of the timber. Little Jim
had disappeared.

Entering the cabin briskly, Cheyenne took his place at the table and ate
heartily.

Lawson, who seemed to be Sneed's right-hand man, was the first to speak
to him. "Bill tells me you are huntin' hosses."

"Yep! That little gray and the buckskin, out in your corral, are my
hosses. They strayed--"

"Didn't see no brand on 'em," declared Lawson.

"Nope. They never was branded. I raised 'em both, when I was workin' for
Senator Steve, over to the Box-S."

"That sounds all right. But you got to show me. I bought them cayuses
from a Chola, down in the valley."

Cheyenne suspected that Lawson was trying to create argument and, in so
doing, open up a way to make him back down and leave or take the
consequences of his act in demanding the horses.

"Honest, they're my hosses," declared Cheyenne, turning to Sneed.

"You'll have to talk to Lawson," said Sneed.

Cheyenne frowned and scratched his head. Suddenly his face brightened.
"Tell you what I'll do! I'll shoot you craps for 'em."

"That's all right, but what'll you put up against 'em?" asked Lawson.

"What did you pay for 'em?" queried Cheyenne.

"Fifty bucks."

"You got 'em cheap. They're worth that much to me." Cheyenne pushed back
his chair and, fishing in his jeans, dug up a purse. "Here's my fifty.
As soon as you get through eatin' we'll shoot for the ponies."

Lawson, while finishing his meal, made up his mind that Cheyenne would
not get away with that fifty dollars, game or no game; and, also, that
he would not get the horses. Cheyenne knew this--knew the kind of man he
was dealing with. But he had a reason to keep the men in the cabin.
Little Jim was out there somewhere, and up to something. If any of the
men happened to catch sight of Little Jim, they would suspect Cheyenne
of some trickery. Moreover, if Little Jim were caught--but Cheyenne
refused to let himself think of what might happen in that event.

Cheyenne threw the dice on the table as Lawson got up. "Go ahead and
shoot."

"Show me what I got to beat," said Lawson.

"All right. Watch 'em close."

Cheyenne gathered up the dice and th