"Wal, I sold them."

"Sold them! Those great horses? Oh, Red, you didn't!"

"Hell! It costs money to ride on this heah U.P.R. thet we built, an' I
had no money."

"But what did you sell them for? I--I cared for those horses."

"Will you keep quiet aboot my hosses?"

Neale had never before seen the tinge of gray in that red-bronze face.

"But I told you to straighten up!"

"Wal, who hasn't?" retorted Larry.

"You haven't! Don't lie."

"If you put it thet way, all right. Now what're you-all goin' to do
aboot it?"

"I'll lick you good," declared Neale, hotly. He was angry with Larry,
but angrier with himself that he had been the cause of the cowboy's loss
of work and of his splendid horses.

"Lick me!" ejaculated Larry. "You mean beat me up?"

"Yes. You deserve it."

Larry took him in earnest and seemed very much concerned. Neale could
almost have laughed at the cowboy's serious predicament.

"Wal, I reckon I ain't much of a fighter with my fists," said Larry,
soberly. "So come an' get it over."

"Oh, damn you, Red!... I wouldn't lay a hand on you. And I am sick, I'm
so glad to see you!... I thought you got here ahead of me."

Neale's voice grew full and trembling.

Larry became confused, his red face grew redder, and the keen blue flash
of his eyes softened.

"Wal, I heerd what a tough place this heah Benton was--so I jest come."

Larry ended this speech lamely, but the way he hitched at his belt was
conclusive.

"Wal, by Gawd! Look who's heah!" he suddenly exclaimed.

Neale wheeled with a start. He saw a scout, in buckskin, a tall form
with the stride of a mountaineer, strangely familiar.

"Slingerland!" he cried.

The trapper bounded at them, his tanned face glowing, his gray eyes
glad.

"Boys, it's come at last! I knowed I'd run into you some day," he said,
and he gripped them with horny hands.

Neale tried to speak, but a terrible cramp in his throat choked him. He
appealed with his hands to Slingerland. The trapper lost his smile and
the iron set returned to his features.

Larry choked over his utterance. "Al-lie! What aboot--her?"

"Boys, it's broke me down!" replied Slingerland, hoarsely. "I swear to
you I never left Allie alone fer a year--an' then--the fust time--when
she made me go--I come back an' finds the cabin burnt.... She's gone!
Gone!... No redskin job. That damned riffraff out of Californy. I
tracked 'em. Then a hell of a storm comes up. No tracks left! All's
lost! A