"Doesn't stand to reason he'd spoil all his plans just to bump me off." "But he might. He forgot all about his plans this morning. How do we know he mightn't a second time?" "Don't you worry, honey. I've got a card up my sleeve," Luck promised. CHAPTER X "STICK TO YOUR SADDLE" The old Arizona fashion of settling a difference of opinion with the six-gun had long fallen into disuse, but Saguache was still close enough to the stark primeval emotions to wait with a keen interest for the crack of the revolver that would put a period to the quarrel between Soapy Stone and young Flandrau. It was known that Curly had refused to leave town, just as it was known that Stone and that other prison bird Blackwell were hanging about the Last Chance and Chalkeye's Place drinking together morosely. It was observed too that whenever Curly appeared in public he was attended by friends. Sometimes it would be Maloney and Davis, sometimes his uncle Alec Flandrau, occasionally a couple of the Map of Texas vaqueros. It chanced that "Old Man" Flandrau, drifting into Chalkeye's Place, found in the assembled group the man he sought. Billie Mackenzie, grizzled owner of the Fiddleback ranch, was with him, and it was in the preliminary pause before drinking that Alec made his official announcement. "No, Mac, I ain't worrying about that any. Curly is going to get a square deal. We're all agreed on that. If there's any shooting from cover there'll be a lynching _pronto_. That goes." Flandrau, Senior, did not glance at the sullen face of Lute Blackwell hovering in the background but he knew perfectly well that inside of an hour word would reach Soapy Stone that only an even break with Curly would be allowed. The day passed without a meeting between the two. Curly grew nervous at the delay. "I'm as restless as a toad on a hot skillet," he confessed to Davis. "This thing of never knowing what minute Soapy will send me his leaden compliments ain't any picnic. Wisht it was over." "He's drinking himself blind. Every hour is to the good for you." Curly shrugged. "Drunk or sober Soapy always shoots straight." Another day passed. The festivities had begun and Curly had to be much in evidence before the public. His friends had attempted to dissuade him from riding in the bucking broncho contest, but he had refused to let his name be scratched from the list of contestants. A thousand pair of eyes in the grandstand watched the boy as he lounged against the corral fence laughing and talking with his friends. A dozen people were on the lookout for the approach of Stone. Fifty others had warned the young man to be careful. For Saguache was with him almost to a man. Dick Maloney heard his voice called as he was passing the grandstand, A minute later he was in the Cullison box shaking hands with Kate. "Is--is there anything new?" she asked in a low voice. Her friend shook his head. "No. Soapy may drift out here any minute now."