of gameness in John Beaudry's son. He had turned his back on a
drunken killer crazy for revenge and mocked the fellow at the risk of
his life.

Presently Roy and the cattle-buyer were bowling down the street behind
Dingwell's fast young four-year-olds. The Denver man did not know that
his host was as weak from the reaction of the strain as a child
stricken with fear.

Chapter XX

At the Lazy Double D

Dingwell squinted over the bunch of cattle in the corral. "Twenty
dollars on the hoof, f.o.b. at the siding," he said evenly. "You to
take the run of the pen, no culls."

"I heard you before," protested the buyer. "Learn a new song,
Dingwell. I don't like the tune of that one. Make it eighteen and let
me cull the bunch."

Dave garnered a straw clinging to the fence and chewed it meditatively.
"Couldn't do it without hurting my conscience. Nineteen--no culls.
That's my last word."

"I'd sure hate to injure your conscience, Dingwell," grinned the man
from Denver. "Think I'll wait till you go to town and do business with
your partner."

"Think he's easy, do you?"

"Easy!" The cattle-buyer turned the conversation to the subject
uppermost in his mind. He had already decided to take the cattle and
the formal agreement could wait. "Easy! Say, do you know what I saw
that young man put over to-day at the depot?"

"I'll know when you've told me," suggested Dingwell.

The Denver man told his story and added editorial comment. "Gamest
thing I ever saw in my life, by Jiminy--stood there with his back to
the man-killer and lit a cigarette while the ruffian had his finger on
the trigger of a six-gun ready to whang away at him. Can you beat
that?"

The eyes of the cattleman gleamed, but his drawling voice was still
casual. "Why didn't Meldrum shoot?"

"Triumph of mind over matter, I reckon. He _wanted_ to shoot--was
crazy to kill your friend. But--he didn't. Beaudry had talked him out
of it."

"How?"

"Bullied him out of it--jeered at him and threatened him and man-called
him, with that big gun shining in his eyes every minute of the time."

Dingwell nodded slowly. He wanted to get the full flavor of this
joyous episode that had occurred. "And the kid lit his cigarette while
Meldrum, crazy as a hydrophobia skunk, had his gun trained on him?"

"That's right. Stood there with a kind o' you-be-damned placard stuck
all over him, then got out the makings and lit up. He tilted back that
han