an'
herded them on to thet cattle-train an' carried them off. It was at
night when the vigilantes worked--masked an' secret an' sure bloody.
Jest like the old vigilante days! ... An' you can gamble they ain't
through yet."

"Uncle Sam won't need to send any soldiers here."

"Wal, I should smile not. Thet'd be a disgrace to the Northwest. It was
a bad time fer the I.W.W. to try any tricks on us."

Jake shook his lean head and his jaw bulged. He might have been
haranguing, cowboy-like, for the benefit of the man they feigned not to
notice, but it was plain, nevertheless, that he was angry.

"What gits me wuss 'n them I.W.W.'s is the skunks thet give Uncle Sam
the double-cross," said Andy, with dark face. "I'll stand fer any man
an' respect him if he's aboveboard an' makes his fight in the open. But
them coyotes thet live off the land an' pretend to be American when they
ain't--they make me pisen mad."

"I heerd the vigilantes has marked men like thet," observed Bill.

"I'll give you a hunch, fellers," replied Jake, grimly. "By Gawd! the
West won't stand fer traitors!"

All the way to "Many Waters," where it was possible to talk and be
heard, the cowboys continued in like strain. And not until the driver
halted the car before Anderson's door did they manifest any awareness of
Neuman.

"Git out an' come in," said Jake to the pallid, sweating rancher.

He led Neuman into the hall and knocked upon Anderson's study door. It
was opened by Dorn.

"Wal, hyar we are," announced Jake, and his very nonchalance attested to
pride.

Anderson was standing beside his desk. He started, and his hand flashed
back significantly as he sighted his rival and enemy.

"No gun-play, boss, was your orders," said Jake. "An' Neuman ain't
packin' no gun."

It was plain that Anderson made a great effort at restraint. But he
failed. And perhaps the realization that he could not kill this man
liberated his passion. Then the two big ranchers faced each
other--Neuman livid and shaking, Anderson black as a thunder-cloud.

"Neuman, you hatched up a plot with Glidden to kill me," said Anderson,
bitterly.

Neuman, in hoarse, brief answer, denied it.

"Sure! Deny it. What do we care? ... We've got you, Neuman," burst out
Anderson, his heavy voice ringing with passion. "But it's not your
low-down plot thet's r'iled me. There's been a good many men who've
tried to do away with me. I've outplayed you in many a deal. So your
personal hate for