he post office he was forced to pass them. They
studied him narrowly in the dusk, and one fellow said:

"That's Delmar's sheep herder; let's have some fun with him. Let's
convert him."

"Oh, let him alone; he's only a kid."

"Kid! He's big as he'll ever be. I'm goin' to string him a few when he
comes out."

Mose's breath was very short as he posted his letter, for trouble was in
the air. He tried his revolvers to see that they were free in their
holsters, and wiped the sweat from his hands and face with his big
bandanna. He entered into conversation with the storekeeper, hoping the
belligerent gang would ride away. They had no such intention, but went
into a saloon next door to drink, keeping watch for Mose. One of them, a
slim, consumptive-chested man, grew drunk first. He was entirely
harmless when sober, and served as the butt of all jokes, but the evil
liquor paralyzed the small knot of gray matter over his eyes and set
loose his irresponsible lower centers. He threw his hat on the ground
and defied the world in a voice absurdly large and strenuous.

His thin arms swung aimlessly, and his roaring voice had no more heart
in it than the blare of a tin horn. His eyes wandered from face to face
in the circle of his grinning companions who egged him on.

His insane, reeling capers vastly amused them. One or two, almost as
drunk as he, occasionally wrestled with him, and they rolled in the dust
like dirty bear cubs. They were helpless so far as physical struggle
went, but, unfortunately, shooting was a second nature to them, and
their hands were deadly.

As Mose came out to mount his horse the crowd saw him, and one vicious
voice called out:

"Here, Bill, here's a sheep walker can do you up."

The crowd whooped with keen delight, and streaming over, surrounded
Mose, who stood at bay not far from his horse in the darkness--a sudden
numbness in his limbs.

"What do you want o' me?" he asked. "I've nothing to do with you." He
knew that this crowd would have no mercy on him and his heart almost
failed him.

"Here's a man wants to lick you," replied one of the herders.

The drunken man was calling somewhere in the crowd, "Where is he? Lemme
get at him." The ring opened and he reeled through and up to Mose, who
was standing ominously quiet beside his horse. Bill seized him by the
collar and said: "You want 'o fight?"

"No," said Mose, too angry at the crowd to humor the drunken fool. "You
take him away or he'll