“Oh, you punch!” Ducky drew a long breath. “If I had three wishes I’d want to be a puzzle picture--find Ducky Drake!” Then he giggled. “‘Gee! Sumpin’ must ’a’ happened to Ole!’” he suggested lightly. “Did you ever hear of the old Texan’s advice to his boy?” asked Baca. “‘My son, don’t steal cattle; but if you do steal cattle, never give ’em up’! It is an admirable maxim, and one which, in part, has been my guide.” “In part? Mr. Evers said in part: ‘My dear Mister Umpire--my very dear sir--is it not possible that you erred in your decision?’” murmured Ducky with an air of reminiscent abstraction. “Drake!” said the lawyer, “whatever else you may have to complain of at my hands, you owe me your life--once and twice.” “Am I to be both your prisoner and your judge?” asked Ducky. “What inference am I to draw?” Baca snapped his fingers. “My dear young friend, I do not care that for your inference! Be well guided. Leave Saragossa to-day and never come back. The money for your cattle will be forthcoming when you send a deed; get some lawyer or a bank to attend to the details of exchange.” “Oh! By the way, how about that mortgage of mine?” inquired Neighbor. “Pray accept my apologies, Mr. Jones. I charged you with insolence: you are merely impudent. You grow wearisome. Your caliber is about twenty-two short, Jones!” said Baca, tapping a monitory finger with a pencil. “I am no man to get gay with. When you measured your brains against mine you flattered yourself considerably. I am not to be bluffed. I am not to be forced. Judge for yourself what chance you have of outwitting me. And, as for the courts--‘Fo’ de land’s sake, Br’er Fox, whatever you does--don’t t’row me in de brieh bush!’” Neighbor blinked mildly. “Oh, well! When two men play at one game one of ’em has to lose!” he said philosophically. “Never mind about the mortgage. I’ve got no family anyway; so where’s the diff? You win!” “I win!” repeated the other. “And now you will pay forfeit. Day before yesterday, Mr. Jones, you drove a young man out of town. You made him leave his suit case----” “Oh, pshaw! I forgot that suit case. I must get it.” “You will not! And you took his gun. That was an arbitrary act, Mr. Jones; and now you are to receive fitting punishment for it. The northbound accommodation leaves here at eleven-forty. You will board that train, accompanied by Mr. Drake and escorted by myself. You will never come back.” “I hate to interrupt when you’re going so good; but it’ll be better for all hands if I declare myself now. You might propose something I shouldn’t want to do,” said Neighbor Jones. “I’m holding no grudge against you for outwitting me, and I’m willing you should crow a little; but don’t rub it in. I’m not the kind to be evened with a tinhorn gambler. So I take that suit case with me. I value it highly. It is a keepsake.” “Pardon me; but I really do not see where you are in any position to dictate terms.”