he start. Let McCloud alone. If he is killed--now
I'm speaking fair and open and making no threats, but I know how it
will come out--there will be nothing but killing here for six months.
We will make just that memorandum on McCloud. Now about the main
question. Every sensible man in the world wants something."

"I know men that have been going a long time without what they
wanted."

Smith flushed and nodded. "You needn't have said that, but no matter.
Every sensible man wants something Murray. This is a big country.
There's a World's Fair running somewhere all the time in it. Why not
travel a little? What do you want?"

"I want my job, or I want a new superintendent here."

"Just exactly the two things, and, by heavens! the only two, I can't
manage. Come once more and I'll meet you."

"No!" Sinclair rose to his feet. "No--damn your money! This is my
home. The high country is my country; it's where my friends are."

"It's filled with your friends; I know that. But don't put your trust
in your friends. They will stay by you, I know; but once in a long
while there will be a false friend, Murray, one that will sell
you--remember that."

"I stay."

Whispering Smith looked up in admiration. "I know you're game. It
isn't necessary for me to say that to you. But think of the fight you
are going into against this company. You can worry them; you've done
it. But a bronco might as well try to buck a locomotive as for one man
or six or six hundred to win out in the way you are playing."

"I will look out for my friends; others--" Sinclair hitched his belt
and paused, but Whispering Smith, cutting and running the cards, gave
no heed. His eyes were fixed on the green cloth under his fingers.
"Others--" repeated Sinclair.

"Others?" echoed Whispering Smith good-naturedly.

"May look out for themselves."

"Of course, of course! Well, if this is the end of it, I'm sorry."

"You will be sorry if you mix in a quarrel that is none of yours."

"Why, Murray, I never had a quarrel with a man in my life."

"You are pretty smooth, but you can't drive me out of this country. I
know how well you'd like to do it; and, take notice, there's one trail
you can't cross even if you stay here. I suppose you understand
that."

Smith felt his heart leap. He sat in his chair turning the pack
slowly, but with only one hand now; the other hand was free. Sinclair
eyed him sidewise. Smith moistened his lips and when he replied spoke
slowly