your horse a drink, or even a reasonable supply for your stock. But
you can't come in here and take our water for your own use, to supplant
us, to parch our stock. Why, even an Indian respects desert law!"

"Bah! I'm not a Mormon or an Indian. I'm a cattleman. It's plain
business with me. Once more I make you the offer."

Naab scorned to reply. The men faced each other for a silent moment,
their glances scintillating. Then Holderness whirled on his heel,
jostling into Hare.

"Get out of my way," said the rancher, in the disgust of intense
irritation. He swung his arm, and his open hand sent Hare reeling
against the counter.

"Jack," said Naab, breathing hard, "Holderness showed his real self
to-day. I always knew it, yet I gave him the benefit of the doubt....
For him to strike you! I've not the gift of revelation, but I see--let
us go."

On the return to the Bishop's cottage Naab did not speak once; the
transformation which had begun with the appearance of his drunken son
had reached a climax of gloomy silence after the clash with Holderness.
Naab went directly to the Bishop, and presently the quavering voice of
the old minister rose in prayer.

Hare dropped wearily into the chair on the porch; and presently fell
into a doze, from which he awakened with a start. Naab's sons, with
Martin Cole and several other men, were standing in the yard. Naab
himself was gently crowding the women into the house. When he got them
all inside he closed the door and turned to Cole.

"Was it a fair fight?"

"Yes, an even break. They met in front of Abe's. I saw the meeting.
Neither was surprised. They stood for a moment watching each other. Then
they drew--only Snap was quicker. Larsen's gun went off as he fell. That
trick you taught Snap saved his life again. Larsen was no slouch on the
draw."

"Where's Snap now?"

"Gone after his pinto. He was sober. Said he'd pack at once. Larsen's
friends are ugly. Snap said to tell you to hurry out of the village
with young Hare, if you want to take him at all. Dene has ridden in; he
swears you won't take Hare away."

"We're all packed and ready to hitch up," returned Naab. "We could start
at once, only until dark I'd rather take chances here than out on the
trail."

"Snap said Dene would ride right into the Bishop's after Hare."

"No. He wouldn't dare."

"Father!" Dave Naab spoke sharply from where he stood high on a grassy
bank. "Here's Dene now, riding up with Culver, and some