hem. I knowed
Jack made them, somehow, but I didn't think. His white hoss has a
crooked left front shoe."

"Yes, he has, when Jack takes off the regular shoe an' nails on the
crooked one.... Men, I followed those tracks They lead up here to your
cabin. Belllounds made them with a purpose.... An' he went to Kremmlin'
to get Sheriff Burley. An' he put him wise to the rustlin' of cattle to
Elgeria. An' he fetched him up to White Slides to accuse Wils Moore.
An' he trailed his own tracks up here, showin' Burley the crooked horse
track an' the little circle--that was supposed to be made by the end of
Moore's crutch--an' he led Burley with his men right to this cabin an'
to the trail where you drove the cattle over the divide.... An' then he
had Burley dig out some cakes of mud holdin' these tracks, an' they
fetched them down to White Slides. Buster Jack blamed the stealin' on to
Moore. An' Burley arrested Moore. The trial comes off next week at
Kremmlin'."

"Damn me!" exclaimed Folsom, wonderingly. "A man's never too old to
learn! I knowed this pup was stealin' from his own father, but I
reckoned he was jest a natural-born, honest rustler, with a hunch fer
drink an' cards."

"Well, he's double-crossed you, Cap. An' if I hadn't rounded you up your
chances would have been good for swingin'."

"Ahuh! Wade, I'd sure preferred them chances of swingin' to your
over-kind interferin' in my bizness. Allus interferin', Wade, thet's
your weakness!... But gimmie a gun!"

"I reckon not, Cap."

"Gimme a gun!" roared the rustler. "Lemme sit hyar an' shoot the eyes
outen this--lyin' pup of a Belllounds!... Wade, put a gun in my hand--a
gun with two shells--or only one. You can stand with your gun at my
head.... Let me kill this skunk!"

For all Belllounds could tell, death was indeed close. No trace of a
Belllounds was apparent about him then, and his face was a horrid
spectacle for a man to be forced to see. A froth foamed over his hanging
lower lip.

"Cap, I ain't trustin' you with a gun just this particular minute," said
Wade.

Folsom then bawled his curses to his comrades.

"----! Kill him! Throw your guns an' bore him--right in them bulgin'
eyes!... I'm tellin' you--we've gotta fight, anyhow. We're agoin' to
cash right hyar. But kill him first!"

Neither of Folsom's lieutenants yielded to the fierce exhortation of
their leader or to their own evilly expressed passions. It was Wade who
dominated them. Then ensued a silen