to bring the good eye his way. "You
ought to change your hat when you change your mind. I saw you driving
a bunch of horses up that canyon a few minutes ago. Now, Rockstro, do
you still drag your left leg?"

The rancher looked steadily at his new inquisitor, but blinked like a
gopher at the sudden onslaught. "Which of you fellows is Whispering
Smith?" he demanded.

"The man with the dough is Whispering Smith every time," was the
answer from Smith himself. "You have about seven years to serve,
Rockstro, haven't you? Seven, I think. Now what have I ever done to
you that you should turn a trick like this on me? I knew you were
here, and you knew I knew you were here, and I call this a pretty
country; a little smooth right around here, like the people, but
pretty. Have I ever bothered you? Now tell me one thing--what did you
get for covering this trail? I stand to give you two dollars for every
one you got last night for the job, if you'll put us right on the
game. Which way did they go?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Get off your horse a minute," suggested Whispering Smith, dismounting,
"and step over here toward the creek." The man, afraid to refuse and
unwilling to go, walked haltingly after Smith.

"What is it, Rockstro?" asked his tormentor. "Don't you like this
country? What do you want to go back to the penitentiary for? Aren't
you happy here? Now tell me one thing--will you give up the trail?"

"I don't know the trail."

"I believe you; we shouldn't follow it anyway. Were you paid last
night or this morning?"

"I ain't seen a man hereabouts for a week."

"Then you can't tell me whether there were five men or six?"

"You've got one eye as good as mine, and one a whole lot better."

"So it was fixed up for cash a week ago?"

"Everything is cash in this country."

"Well, Rockstro, I'm sorry, but we'll have to take you back with us."

The rancher whipped out a revolver. Whispering Smith caught his wrist.
The struggle lasted only an instant. Rockstro writhed, and the pistol
fell to the ground.

"Now, shall I break your arm?" asked Smith, as the man cursed and
resisted. "Or will you behave? We are going right back and you'll have
to come with us. We'll send some one down to round up your horses and
sell them, and you can serve out your time--with allowances, of
course, for good conduct, which will cut it down. If I had ever done
you a mean turn I would not say a word. If you could name a friend of
y