“Right then and there, Benner started in to make trouble. Perry’s steers were run off in bunches, some of the ranch buildings were burned, and cowboys from up and down the Brazos came pestering around, doing all sorts of sneaking and underhand things. Every now and then, Benner has some skulking puncher nail a note to the ranch-house door telling Perry that he knows what to do when he’s got enough.” The scout muttered an angry exclamation. “That’s a fine state of affairs,” said he. “I shouldn’t think the other cattlemen would stand for such rascally work.” “Nor I, either; but they do. The rest of the barons are friends of Benner’s, and they’re backing him to a man. Perry’s a late comer on the range, and the cattlemen would like to run him out. I reckon that’s the reason they’re standing by Benner like they are.” “But what has Benner got against you, Dunbar, that he should have you roped and given into the custody of Red Steve?” “Well, stranger,” answered Nate Dunbar, with some embarrassment, “Hattie has promised to marry me, and that’s reason enough for Benner taking the sort of stand against me that he does.” “Oh!” exclaimed the scout, “so that’s how the wind blows, is it? This free country of ours has dropped into a fine state of lawlessness if a young lady can’t choose her own husband without turning loose the dogs of war. What does Dick Perry think about you, Nate?” “He’s on my side. Didn’t I tell you I had an interest in his ranch? We’re friends, Dick and I are. Benner’s rich, but that doesn’t make any difference with Hattie. She’s true blue, and all for me no matter what happens. But I sure hate to have all this trouble come upon her and her father.” The scout, still keeping the business end of the revolver unswervingly upon Red Steve, debated the situation in his mind. “How did Benner manage to get hold of you, Nate?” he inquired. “I was out looking for strayed or stolen cattle,” said Dunbar, “when half a dozen of Benner’s men jumped me. It was in a dry wash, and the whelps rolled down on me so quick I couldn’t do a thing. It was yesterday this happened, and I was lugged to this dugout and left in the hands of Red Steve.” “As scoundrelly a game as was ever played,” declared the scout, “and it doesn’t speak very well for the cattlemen in these parts.” “These are flush days on this part of the range,” went on Dunbar; “anything with horns, hoofs and hide comes pretty near being worth its weight in gold. All the barons on the Brazos are rich, and Perry would be worth quite a pile if the rest of the ranchers would only let him and his stock alone. It ought to be stopped. By thunder, it’s a disgrace the way Perry is being treated.” “You’re right,” said the scout, “this hectoring ought to be stopped. I’ve a notion to bear a hand and help you and Perry put an end to the lawless situation.” A scornful laugh broke from Red Steve’s lips.