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"Hello, Texas! Can't say, I'm sure. Just dropped in to see what's

doing."

Steve's admiring gaze approved him a man from the ground up. But

the ranger only laughed and said: "The band's going to play a

right lively tune, looks like."

The man from the Panhandle had his revolvers out already. "Yes,

there will be a hot time in the old town to-night, I shouldn't

wonder."

But for the moment the attackers were inclined to parley. Their

leader stepped out and held up a hand for a suspension of

hostilities. He was a large man, heavily built, and powerful as a

bear. There was about him an air of authority, as of one used to

being obeyed. He was dressed roughly enough in corduroy and

miner's half-leg boots, but these were of the most expensive

material and cut. His cold gray eye and thin lips denied the

manner of superficial heartiness he habitually carried. If one

scratched the veneer of good nature it was to find a hard

selfishness that went to his core.