"Oh, yes," said Ten-Gallon, "I know you now. You're the feller that beat him to it. Well, I had a complaint ag'in' you for stealin' a man's coat over in Comanche." "I'm out of your jurisdiction right now, I guess; but I'll go down to Comanche and give you a chance at me if you want to take it," the doctor told him, considerably out of humor, what with his own disappointment and the fellow's natural insolence. The police chief of Comanche laughed. "I'd be about the last man to lay hands on you for anything you done to that feller, even if you'd 'a' took his hide along with his coat," said he. "Then the crime trust of Comanche must be dissolved?" sneered Slavens. "I don't git you, pardner," returned Ten-Gallon with cold severity. "Oh, never mind." "You're the feller that beat Boyle to it, too," added the chief; "and I want to tell you, pardner, I take off my katy to you. You're one smart guy!" "You'll find your man on down the road about a quarter," directed Slavens, on whose ear the encomiums of Ten-Gallon fell without savor. "I heard in Meander today that you'd sold out to Boyle," said Ten-Gallon. "Well, you got it straight," the doctor told him. Ten-Gallon slued in his saddle, slouching over confidentially. "Say, it ain't any of my business, maybe, but how much did you git out of this pile of rocks?" "It isn't any of your business, but I'll tell you. I got more out of it than this whole blasted country's worth!" Slavens replied. Ten-Gallon chuckled--a deep, fat, well-contented little laugh. "Pardner," said he admiringly, "you certainly are one smart guy!" Ten-Gallon rode on in his quest of Boyle, while Slavens sat again beside his fire, which he allowed to burn down to coals. Slavens could not share the fellow's jubilation over the transfer of the homestead to Boyle, for he had surrendered it on Boyle's own terms--the terms proposed to Agnes at the beginning. As he filled his big, comforting pipe and smoked, Slavens wondered what she would say concerning his failure to return to her before signing the relinquishment. There would be some scolding, perhaps some tears, but he felt that he was steering the boat, and the return merely to keep his word inviolate would have been useless. He reviewed the crowded events of the past two days; his arrival at Meander, his talk with the county attorney. While that official appeared to be outwardly honest, he was inwardly a coward, trembling for his office. He was candid in his expression that Boyle would make a case against Agnes if he wanted it made, for there was enough to base an action upon and make a public showing.