ight on a stage
to put him off again."

Morgan's fist came down on the bar. "Look here, de Spain! You come
from Medicine Bend, don't you? Well, you can't bully Music Mountain
men--understand that."

"Any time you have a real grievance, Morgan, I'll be glad to consider
it," said de Spain. "When one of your men is drunk and quarrelsome he
will be put off like any other disturber. That we can't avoid. Public
stages can't be run any other way."

"All right," retorted Morgan. "If you take that tack for your new
management, we'll see how you get along running stages down in this
country."

"We will run them peaceably, just as long as we can," smiled de Spain.
"We will get on with everybody that gives us a chance."

Morgan pointed a finger at him. "I give you a chance, de Spain, right
now. Will you discharge Elpaso?"

"No."

Morgan almost caught his breath at the refusal. But de Spain could be
extremely blunt, and in the parting shots between the two he gave no
ground.

"Jeffries put me here to stop this kind of rowdyism on the stages," he
said to Lefever on their way back to the barn. "This is a good time to
begin. And Sassoon and Gale Morgan are good men to begin with," he
added.

As the horses of the two men emerged from the canyon they saw a
slender horsewoman riding in toward the barn from the Music Mountain
trail. She stopped in front of McAlpin, the barn boss, who stood
outside the office door. McAlpin, the old Medicine Bend barnman, had
been promoted from Sleepy Cat by the new manager. De Spain recognized
the roan pony, but, aside from that, a glance at the figure of the
rider, as she sat with her back to him, was enough to assure him of
Nan Morgan. He spurred ahead fast enough to overhear a request she was
making of McAlpin to mail a letter for her. She also asked McAlpin,
just as de Spain drew up, whether the down stage had passed. McAlpin
told her it had. De Spain, touching his hat, spoke: "I am going right
up to Sleepy Cat. I'll mail your letter if you wish."

She looked at him in some surprise, and then glanced toward Lefever,
who now rode up. De Spain was holding out his hand for the letter. His
eyes met Nan's, and each felt the moment was a sort of challenge. De
Spain, a little self-conscious under her inspection, was aware only of
her rather fearless eyes and the dark hair under her fawn cowboy hat.

"Thank you," she responded evenly. "If the stage is gone I will hold
it to add something." So sa