They had thought that they were alone on the veranda, but a man had stolen up to them as silently as a cat while they were talking, and he stood at the young rancher’s shoulder, less than a yard away. He was a big, broad-chested man, with a coarse, bloated face, a swaggering figure, and a bristling red mustache. Buffalo Bill recognized him at once. He was Simon Ketchum, known to everybody as a professional gambler and suspected to be the spy and agent of the Death Riders in the settlement of Danger Divide. “I think I ought to know something about the Death Riders,” said the border king, after he had looked at the man in silence for a few moments. “I am in their black books, as you probably know very well.” “How should I know anything about it?” asked the intruder quickly. “The Death Riders? There are no such people. It is an old story that they tell around here to scare tenderfeet.” “It’s hard to prove, isn’t it?” said the king of the scouts, giving the man a significant look. “Dead men tell no tales.” “You seem to be quite nervous about these imaginary Death Riders,” sneered Ketchum. “I should not have thought that a man with Buffalo Bill’s great reputation feared anything.” Buffalo Bill did not reply, for he did not care to assert his courage in words. But his companion faced the swaggering stranger and said hotly: “Cody and one of his friends managed to account for a gang of your rascally assassins between them. You had better send ten times the number next time if you want to make sure of your bloody work! “But you had better be careful. You are suspected, and if we can only get some good evidence against you, you will find that there is some law and justice in the West, after all!” The swaggerer’s red face grew as black as night with rage, and he seemed about to spring at the throat of his bold challenger, but Cody stepped in between them and eyed him calmly and steadily. Ketchum tried to meet his gaze, but he could not do so. He read the menace of death there, and his cheeks turned pale. “Get out of here!” said the border king. “We understand one another perfectly, I think. You can do your worst, and we will be ready to defend ourselves--and to strike back!” Frightened by these words, Ketchum turned on his heel and left the veranda. He knew Buffalo Bill well by reputation, and thoroughly understood that he was not the kind of man to speak at random. “You had better not meddle in this affair, old fellow,” said Cody to Mainwaring when they were alone again. “That man Ketchum is a coarse brute, and I’ve been inclined to insult him publicly and make him fight me. But I don’t think it would be the wisest course. I have other plans for meeting his murderous schemes.” “Count on me to help you in any way I can,” said the brave young rancher, setting his lips in a stern line. “It is of no use for you to tell me to keep out of this business. I am in it, and I’m going to stay in it.