d upon the stables while turning
his own horse into the corral. "We got some fast ones," was all that
the foreman chose to say, just then.

Pete and the foreman had something to eat in the chuck-house, and
returned to the larger building. Brent read The Spider's letter,
rolled the end of his silver-gray mustache between his thumb and
forefinger, and finally glanced up. "So, you're Pete Annersley?"

"That's my name."

"Have a chair. You're right young to be riding alone. How did you
come to throw in with The Spider?"

Pete hesitated. Why should he tell this man anything other than that
he had been sent by The Spider with the letter which--he had been
told--would explain his presence and embody his instructions?

"Don't he say in that letter?" queried Pete.

"He says you were mixed up in a bank robbery over to Enright," stated
the foreman.

"That's a dam' lie!" flared Pete.

"I reckon you'll do," said Brent, as he folded the letter. The Spider
had made that very statement in his letter to Brent for the purpose of
finding out, through the foreman, whether or not Pete had taken it upon
himself to read the letter before delivering it. And Brent, aware of
The Spider's methods, realized at once why his chief had misstated the
facts. It was evident that Pete had not read the letter, otherwise he
would most probably have taken his cue from The Spider's assertion
about the bank robbery and found himself in difficulties, for directly
after the word "Enright" was a tiny "x"--a code letter which meant
"This is not so."

"Reckon I'll do what?" queried Pete. "Let The Spider or anybody like
him run a whizzer on me after I run a good hoss ragged to git here with
his doggone letter--and then git stuck up like I was a hoss-thief? You
got another guess, uncle."

The old cowman's eyes twinkled. "You speak right out in meetin', don't
you, son?" His drawl was easy and somehow reminded Pete of Pop
Annersley. "Now there's some wouldn't like that kind of talk--even
from a kid."

"I'd say it to The Spider as quick as I would to you," asserted Pete.

"Which might be takin' a chance, both ways."

"Say"--and Pete smiled--"I guess I been talkin' pretty fast, I was some
het up. The Spider used me as white as he could use anybody, I reckon.
But ever since that killin' up to his place, I been sore at the whole
doggone outfit runnin' this here world. What does a fella git, anyhow,
for stickin' up for himself, if he runs a