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Jed was in high good humor with himself. His victim looked silent

murder at him.

"One more thing, while you're in a teachable frame of mind,"

continued Briscoe. "I run Lost Valley. What I say, goes here. Get

that soaked into your think-tank, my friend. Ever since you came,

you've been disputing that in your mind. You've been stirring up

the boys against me. Think I haven't noticed it? Guess again, Mr.

Struve. You'd like to be boss yourself, wouldn't you? Forget it.

Down in Texas you may be a bad, bad man, a sure enough wolf, but

in Wyoming you only stack up to coyote size. Let this slip your

mind, and I'll be running Lost Valley after your bones are picked

white by the buzzards."

"I ain't a-goin' to make you any trouble. Didn't I tell you that

before?" growled Struve reluctantly.

"See you don't, then. Now I'll come again to my news. I was

telling you that there's another stranger in this valley, Mr.

Struve. Hails from Texas, too. Name of Fraser. Ever hear of him?"