on his bed."

"He took his fighting chance. You ain't kicking because I played out the
game the way you-all started to play it? If you are, I'll have to say I
might have expected a sheep herder to look at it that way," Weaver
retorted insolently.

The old man took a grip on his rising wrath. "No--we're not kicking, any
more than you've got a right to kick when we settle accounts with you."

"As we're liable to do right shortly, now we've got you," said Dixon,
vindictively.

"All right--go ahead with the indictment," Weaver acquiesced quietly,
ignoring the boy.

"Keep still, Tom," Sanderson ordered, and went on with his grievance.
"You try to run this valley as if you were God Almighty. By your way of
it, a man has to come with hat in hand to ask you if he may take up land
here. The United States says we may homestead, but Buck Weaver says we
shan't. Uncle Sam says we may lease land to run sheep. Buck Weaver has
another notion of it. We're to take orders from him. If we don't he
clubs our sheep and drives off our cattle."

"Cattle were here first," retorted Weaver. "The range is overstocked,
and they've got a prior right. Nesters in the hills here are making
money by rustling Twin Star calves. That's another thing."

"Some of them. You'll not find any rustled calves with the Seven Mile
brand on them. And we don't recognize any prior right. We came here
legally. We intend to stay. Every time your riders club a bunch of our
sheep, we'll even up on Twin Star cattle. You take my daughter captive;
I hold you prisoner."

"You'll be in luck if you get away from here with a whole skin," broke
out Phil. "You came here to please yourself, but you'll stay to please
us."

"So?" Buck smiled urbanely. He was staying because he wanted to, though
they never guessed it.

"Unbuckle his gun belt, Tom," ordered the old man.

"Save you the trouble." Weaver unbuckled the belt and tossed it,
revolver and all, to Yeager.

"Now, Mr. Weaver, we'll adjourn to the house."

"Anything to oblige."

"What about Mr. Keller?" Phyllis asked, in a low voice, of her father.

The old man's keen, hard eyes surveyed the stranger. "Who is he? What do
you know about him?"

As shortly as she could, she told what she knew of Keller, and how he
had rescued her from captivity.

Her father strode forward and shook hands with the young man.

"Make yourself at home, seh. We'll be glad to have you stay with us as
long as you can. What you have d