"Well, he says so himse'f!" protested Atkins, pointing an accusing finger at Bowles. "Didn't he come into camp and tell all about it? I believe that he was tryin' to do it so he could git a chance to----" "Mr. Atkins," said Bowles, rising to his feet and speaking tremulously, "I shall have to ask----" But that was as far as he got. With a tiger-like spring the ex-twister was upon him, and before he could raise his hands he struck him full in the face. "You will talk about my gal, will ye?" he shouted, as Bowles went down at the blow. "Stand up hyer, you white-livered Hinglishman; I'll learn you to butt in on my game!" "Here! What're you tryin' to do?" demanded Brigham, leaping up hastily and confronting his old-time enemy. "You touch that boy again, and I'll slap yore dirty face off!" "Well, he's been gittin' too important around hyer!" cried Atkins noisily. "And he's been talkin' about my gal--I won't take that from no man!" "Huh!" sneered Brigham, drawing closer and clenching his hands. "You're mighty quick to hit a man when he ain't lookin'--why don't you take a man of yore size now and hit me?" "I ain't got no quarrel with you!" raved Hardy Atkins. "That's the feller I'm after--he's been talkin' about my gal!" "He has not!" replied Brigham deliberately. "He never talked about no gal, and I'll whip the man that says so--are you bad hurt, pardner?" He knelt by the side of the prostrate Bowles, who opened his eyes and stared. Then he looked about him and raised one hand to his cheek, which was bruised and beginning to swell. "I'll learn you to cut me out!" taunted Hardy Atkins, shaking his fist and doing a war-dance. "I'll make you hard to ketch if you try to butt in on me!" "Aw, shut up!" snarled Brigham, lifting his partner up. "You're brave when a man ain't lookin', ain't ye? Here, ketch hold of me, pardner, and I'll take you to yore bed." Bowles dropped down on his blankets, still nursing his aching head; but in the morning he rose up with a purposeful look in his eye. He was a long way from New York and the higher life now, and that one treacherous blow had roused his fighting blood. For the courage which prompts a man to strike in the dark, he had little if any respect, and he went straight over to Hardy Atkins the moment he saw him alone. "Mr. Atkins," he said, "you hit me when I wasn't looking last night. Next time you won't find me so easy--but be so good as to leave Miss Lee's name out of this." "Oho!" taunted the cow-puncher, straightening up and regarding him with a grin. "So you want some more, hey? That crack on the jaw didn't satisfy you. What's the matter with yore face this mawnin'?" "Never you mind about my face," returned Bowles warmly. "If you are so low as to be proud of a trick like that, you are a coward, and no gentleman, and--put up your hands!" He squared off as he spoke, falling back upon his right foot and presenting a long, menacing left; but Hardy Atkins only laughed and loosened his pistol.