eller who doesn't know much. There's been some queer deals lately
an' this seemed to me the queerest. These men stood to the bar alone,
an' so close their big gun-hilts butted together. I seen Oldrin' was
some surprised at first, an' Lassiter was cool as ice. They talked, an'
presently at somethin' Lassiter said the rustler bawled out a curse, an'
then he jest fell up against the bar, an' sagged there. The gang in the
saloon looked around an' laughed, an' thet's about all. Finally Oldrin'
turned, and it was easy to see somethin' hed shook him. Yes, sir, thet
big rustler--you know he's as broad as he is long, an' the powerfulest
build of a man--yes, sir, the nerve had been taken out of him. Then,
after a little, he began to talk an' said a lot to Lassiter, an' by an'
by it didn't take much of an eye to see thet Lassiter was gittin' hit
hard. I never seen him anyway but cooler 'n ice--till then. He seemed to
be hit harder 'n Oldrin', only he didn't roar out thet way. He jest kind
of sunk in, an' looked an' looked, an' he didn't see a livin' soul
in thet saloon. Then he sort of come to, an' shakin' hands--mind you,
shakin' hands with Oldrin'--he went out. I couldn't help thinkin' how
easy even a boy could hev dropped the great gun-man then!... Wal, the
rustler stood at the bar fer a long time, en' he was seein' things far
off, too; then he come to an' roared fer whisky, an' gulped a drink thet
was big enough to drown me."

"Is Oldring here now?" whispered Venters. He could not speak above a
whisper. Judkins's story had been meaningless to him.

"He's at Snell's yet. Bern, I hevn't told you yet thet the rustlers hev
been raisin' hell. They shot up Stone Bridge an' Glaze, an' fer three
days they've been here drinkin' an' gamblin' an' throwin' of gold. These
rustlers hev a pile of gold. If it was gold dust or nugget gold I'd hev
reason to think, but it's new coin gold, as if it had jest come from the
United States treasury. An' the coin's genuine. Thet's all been proved.
The truth is Oldrin's on a rampage. A while back he lost his Masked
Rider, an' they say he's wild about thet. I'm wonderin' if Lassiter
could hev told the rustler anythin' about thet little masked,
hard-ridin' devil. Ride! He was most as good as Jerry Card. An', Bern,
I've been wonderin' if you know--"

"Judkins, you're a good fellow," interrupted Venters. "Some day I'll
tell you a story. I've no time now. Take the horses to Jane."

Judkins stared, and the