u mean we're to let him go?" queried a hesitating voice at last.

Blair folded up the broad brim of his hat and looked from face to face
as it was revealed by the uncertain light from the window.

"I mean what I said," he repeated evenly. "I'll attend to this matter
myself."

For a moment again there was silence, but only for a moment.

"No you won't!" blazed a voice suddenly. "Rankin was the whitest man
that ever owned a brand. Just because the kyote that shot him lived with
your mother won't save him. I'm going--and now."

Quicker than a cat, so swiftly that the other cowboys scarcely realized
what was happening, the long gaunt Benjamin was at the speaker's side.
With a leap he had him by the throat, had dragged him from the back of
the horse, and held him at arm's length.

"Freeman,"--the voice was neither raised nor lowered, but steady as the
drip of falling water,--"Freeman, you know better than that, and you
know you know better." The grip of the long left hand on the throat
tightened. The fingers of the right locked. "Say so--quick!"

Face to face, looking fair into each other's eyes, stood the two men,
while the spectators watched breathlessly as they would have done at a
climax in a play. It was a case of will against will, elemental man
against his brother.

"I'm waiting," suggested Blair, and even in the dim light Freeman saw
the blue eyes beneath the long lashes darken. Instinctively the victim's
hand went to his hip and lingered there; but he could no more have
withdrawn the weapon which he felt there than he could have struck his
own mother. He started to speak; but his lips were dry, and he moistened
them with his tongue.

"Yes, I know better," he admitted low.

Ben Blair dropped his hand and turned to the spectators. "Men," he said
slowly and distinctly, "for the present at least I'm master of this
ranch, and when I give an order I expect to be obeyed." Again his eye
went from face to face fearlessly, dominantly. "Does any other man doubt
me?"

Not a voice broke the stillness of the night. Only the restless movement
of the impatient mustangs answered.

"Very well, then, you heard what I said. Go to bed, and to-morrow go on
with your work as usual. Grannis will be in charge while I'm gone," and
without a backward glance the long figure returned to the ranch-house.

The weazened foreman and the tall adventurer had been watching him
impassively from the doorway. In silence they made room for