e street, stood a
man. He was lean-faced, hardy-looking, with a strong, determined jaw
and steady, alert eyes. He was apparently about fifty years of age.
He grinned at Calumet's belligerent motion.

"Hearin' me?" he said to Calumet's cold, inquiring glance.

The latter's eyes glowed. "Layin' for me, eh? Thanks." He looked
curiously at the other. "Who are you?" he said.

"I'm Dave Toban, the sheriff." He threw back one side of his vest and
revealed a small silver star.

"Correct," said Calumet; "how you knowin' me?"

"Knowed your dad," said the sheriff. "You look a heap like him.
Besides," he added as his eyes twinkled, "there ain't no one else in
this section doin' any buildin' now."

"I'm sure much obliged for your interest," said Calumet. "An' so
Taggart's lookin' for me?"

"Been in town a week," continued the sheriff. "Been makin' his brags
what he's goin' to do to you. Says you wheedled him into comin' over
to the Lazy Y an' then beat him up. Got Denver Ed with him."

Calumet's eyes narrowed. "I know him," he said.

"Gun-fighter, ain't he?" questioned the sheriff.

"Yep." Calumet's eyelashes flickered; he smiled with straight lips.
"Drinkin'?" he invited.

"Wouldn't do," grinned the sheriff. "Publicly, I ain't takin' no side.
Privately, I'm feelin' different. Knowed your dad. Taggart's bad
medicine for this section. Different with you."

"How different?"

"Straight up. Anybody that lives around Betty Clayton's got to be."

Calumet looked at him with a crooked smile. "I reckon," he said, "that
you don't know any more about women than I do. So-long," he added. He
went into the "Chance" saloon, leaving the sheriff looking after him
with a queer smile.

Ten minutes later when Calumet came out of the saloon the sheriff was
nowhere in sight.

Calumet went over to where his wagon stood and, concealed behind it,
took a six-shooter from under his shirt at the waistband and placed it
carefully in a sling under the right side of his vest. Then he removed
the cartridges from the weapon in the holster at his hip, smiling
mirthlessly as he replaced it in the holster and made his way up the
street.

With apparent carelessness, though keeping an alert eye about him, he
went the rounds of the saloons. Before he had visited half of them
there was an air of suppressed excitement in the manner of Lazette's
citizens, and knowledge of his errand went before him. In the saloons
that he ente