nd cantered up the trail. But before
he had gone a hundred yards, he was off again, examining the hoofmarks
the animal left in the sand. The left hind mark differed from the others
in that the detail was blurred and showed nothing but a single flat
stamp.

This seemed to interest Keller greatly. He picked up the corresponding
foot of the cow pony, and found the cause of the irregularity to be a
deformity or swelling in the ball of the foot, which apparently was now
its normal condition. The young man whistled softly to himself, swung
again to the saddle, and continued on his way.

The owner of the horse had his back turned and did not hear him coming
as he padded up the soft trail. The man was testing in his hand
something that clicked.

Larrabie swung quietly to the ground, and waited. His eyes were like
tempered steel.

"Here's your horse," he said. Before the other man moved, he drawled: "I
reckon I'd better tell you I'm armed, too. Don't be hasty."

Dixon turned his swollen face to him in a childish fury. He had picked
up, and was holding in his hand, the revolver Larrabie had taken from
him and later thrown down. "Damn you, what do you mean? It's my own gun,
ain't it? Mean to say I'm a murderer?"

"I happen to know you have impulses that way. I thought I'd check this
one, to save you trouble."

He was standing carelessly with his right hand resting on the mane of
the pony; he had not even taken the precaution of lowering it to his
side, where the weapon might be supposed to lie.

For an instant Tom thought of taking a chance. The odds would be with
him, since he had the revolver ready to his fingers. But before that
indomitable ease his courage ebbed. He had not the stark fighting nerve
to pit himself against such a man as this.

"I don't know as I said anything about shooting. Looks like you're
trying to fasten another row on me," the craven said bitterly.

"I'm content if you are; and as far as I'm concerned, this thing is
between us two. It won't go any further."

Keller stood aside and watched Dixon mount. The hillman took his spleen
out on the horse, finding that the safest vent for his anger. He jerked
its head angrily, cursed it, and drove in the spurs cruelly. With a
leap, the cow pony was off. In fifty strides it reached the top of the
hill and disappeared.

Keller laughed grimly, and spoke aloud to himself, after the manner of
one who lives much alone.

"There's a _nice_ young man--yellow