n you set Kelso on me. That'll let you die
like a man--which you ain't!" He tapped the gun at his right hip. "I'll
use this one. We'll stand close--where we are--to make your chance
better. When I count three you draw your gun. Show your man now, if
there's any in you!"

He dropped his hands from his chest and held the right, the fingers bent
like the talons of a bird of prey, about to seize a victim. He waited,
his eyes gleaming in the starlight, with cold alertness for Masten's
expected move toward his gun. But after a long, breathless silence,
during which Masten's knees threatened to give way, he leaned forward.

"Flash it! Quick! Or you go out anyway!"

"I'm unarmed!" Masten's voice would not come before. It burst forth now,
hysterically, gaspingly, sounding more like a moan than the cry of a man
pleading for his life.

But it stung the stern-faced man before him to action, rapid and tense.
He sprang forward with a low, savage exclamation, drawing one of his big
weapons and jamming its muzzle deep into Masten's stomach. Then, holding
it there, that the Easterner might not trick him, he ran his other hand
over the frightened man's clothing, and found no weapon. Then he stepped
back with a laugh, low, scornful, and bitter. The discovery that Masten
was not armed seemed to drive his cold rage from him, and when he spoke
again his voice was steely and contemptuous:

"You can hit the breeze, I reckon--I ain't murderin' anybody. You're safe
right now. But I'm tellin' you this: I'm lookin' for you, an' you don't
run no blazer in on me no more! After this, you go heeled--or you hit the
breeze out of the country. One of us has got to go. This country is too
crowded with both of us!"

Masten got on his pony, trembling so that he had trouble in getting his
feet into the stirrups. He rode on, hundreds of yards, before he dared to
turn, so great was his dread that to do so would be to bring upon him the
wrath of the man who had spared him. But finally he looked around. He saw
Randerson riding out into the darkness of the vast stretch of grass-land
that lay to the south.

CHAPTER XXII

INTO WHICH A GIRL'S TROUBLE COMES

Uncle Jepson and Aunt Martha had not seen Masten when he had visited
Ruth, for they had gone in the buckboard to Red Rock. And Masten had
departed when they reached home. Nor did they see Ruth after they
arrived, for she had gone to bed. But at t