't know no more about than that would be like
me goin' East an' sayin' I knew a man by the name of John."

"How long has he worked for you?"

"He quit last evenin'. If he'd of stayed till day after tomorrow, it
would have been just a year." The old man's voice had softened, and his
gaze strayed to the far hills. "I made him foreman when he'd b'en with
me a month," he continued after a short pause. "I can pick men." Another
pause. "He--he called me 'Dad'."

"Did he know you were going to sell?" asked Endicott.

The old man shook his head.

"Then, why did he quit?" Somehow, the question sounded harsh, but the
man seemed not to notice. There was an awkward silence during which the
old man continued to stare out over the hills.

"He quit to get drunk," he said abruptly, and Endicott detected a slight
huskiness in his tone.

Across the table, Alice gasped--and the sound was almost a sob.

Colston cleared his throat roughly, and turned his eyes to the girl:
"That's the way I feel about it, young woman. I got to know him mighty
well, an' I know what was in him. From the time he went to work for me
till he quit, he never took a drink--an', God knows it wasn't because he
didn't want one! He fought it just like he fought bad horses, an' like
he'd of fought men if he'd had to--square an' open. He'd give away an
advantage rather than take one. He was like that.

"I saw him ride an outlaw, once--a big, vicious killer--a devil-horse.
The Red King, we called him, he's run with the wild bunch for years. Two
men had tried him. We buried one where he lit. The other had folks. Tex
run him a week an' trapped him at a water-hole--then, he _rode him_!"
The old man's eyes were shining now, and his fist smote the table top.
"Ah, that was a ride--with the whole outfit lookin' on!" Colston paused
and glanced about the faces at the table, allowing his eyes to rest upon
Alice who was listening eagerly, with parted lips. "Did you ever notice
how sometimes without any reason, things gets kind of--of
onnatural--kind of feel to 'em that's _different_? Well, this ride was
like that. I've seen hundreds of bad horses rode, an' the boys all
yellin' an' bettin', but this time there wasn't no bettin', an' the only
sounds was the sound made by the Red King. It wasn't because they
expected to see Tex killed--all of 'em had seen men killed ridin' bad
horses, an' all of 'em had cheered the next man up. But, somethin' kep'
'em still, with their eyes fr