ntion thus directed to the Mexican showed a heavy discolored
swelling upon the side of his olive-skinned face. Lorenzo looked only
serious.

"Hah! Speak up," shouted Jorth, impatiently.

"Senor Isbel heet me ver quick," replied Lorenzo, with expressive
gesture. "I see thousand stars--then moocho black--all like night."

At that some of Daggs's men lolled back with dry crisp laughter.
Daggs's hard face rippled with a smile. But there was no humor in
anything for Colonel Jorth.

"Tell us what come off. Quick!" he ordered. "Where did it happen?
Why? Who saw it? What did you do?"

Bruce lapsed into a sullen impressiveness. "Wal, I happened in
Greaves's store an' run into Jean Isbel. Shore was lookin' fer him. I
had my mind made up what to do, but I got to shootin' off my gab
instead of my gun. I called him Nez Perce--an' I throwed all thet talk
in his face about old Gass Isbel sendin' fer him---an' I told him he'd
git run out of the Tonto. Reckon I was jest warmin' up.... But then it
all happened. He slugged Lorenzo jest one. An' Lorenzo slid
peaceful-like to bed behind the counter. I hadn't time to think of
throwin' a gun before he whaled into me. He knocked out two of my
teeth. An' I swallered one of them."

Ellen stood in the background behind three of the men and in the
shadow. She did not join in the laugh that followed Bruce's remarks.
She had known that he would lie. Uncertain yet of her reaction to
this, but more bitter and furious as he revealed his utter baseness,
she waited for more to be said.

"Wal, I'll be doggoned," drawled Daggs.

"What do you make of this kind of fightin'?" queried Jorth,

"Darn if I know," replied Daggs in perplexity. "Shore an' sartin it's
not the way of a Texan. Mebbe this young Isbel really is what old Gass
swears he is. Shore Bruce ain't nothin' to give an edge to a real gun
fighter. Looks to me like Isbel bluffed Greaves an' his gang an'
licked your men without throwin' a gun."

"Maybe Isbel doesn't want the name of drawin' first blood," suggested
Jorth.

"That 'd be like Gass," spoke up Rock Wells, quietly. "I onct rode fer
Gass in Texas."

"Say, Bruce," said Daggs, "was this heah palaverin' of yours an' Jean
Isbel's aboot the old stock dispute? Aboot his father's range an'
water? An' partickler aboot, sheep?"

"Wal--I--I yelled a heap," declared Bruce, haltingly, "but I don't
recollect all I said--I was riled.... Shore, though it was the sa