So it happened that about noon of the day Curley lost his life six men met in the shadow cast by the front of the "Rawhide" a hundred yards from Quinn's, and exercised squatter sovereignty on the bench just outside the door, while inside the saloon Big Sandy and Nevada played cards close to the bar and talked in low tones. When they were aware of the presence of those on the bench they played silently and listened. The six men outside made up one of the groups of the town's society, having ridden in together and stuck together ever since they had arrived, which was wise. Big Sandy and Nevada made a team more feared than any other combination. The former, while fair with weapons, was endowed with prodigious strength; by some it was hailed as being greater than that of Pete Wilson, the squat giant of the Bar-20, whose strength was proverbial, as it had good right to be. Nevada was the opposite type, slender, short, wiry, and soft-spoken, but the quickest man in town on the draw and of uncertain temper. Chet Bates, on the bench, replied to a companion and gave vent to his soft, Southern laugh. "Yuh still wondering 'bout thet man Shaw, an' th' othas?" "Nothing else to do, is there?" retorted Dal Gilbert. "We can't run no more cattle, can we?" "I reckon we can't." "They're running a big game an' I want to get in it," remarked John Elder. "Frisco was allus friendly. We've got to go trailing for 'em." "Yes; an' get shot," interposed George Lewis. "They're ten to our six. An' that ain't all of our troubles, neither. We'll find ourselves in a big fight some day, an' right here. Them ranches will wake up, patch up their troubles, an' come down here. You remember what Quinn said about th' time Peters led a lot of mad punchers agin Trendley an' his crowd, don't you? In a day he can raise men enough to wipe this town off th' map." "Yuh forget, suh, that they are fighting foh principles, an' men who fight foh principles don't call truces," said Chet Bates. "You've said that till it's old," laughed Sam Austin. "_I_ say we've got to keep our eyes open," warned Lewis. "Th' devil with that!" broke in Con Irwin. "What _I_ want to know is how we're going to get some of th' easy money Shaw's getting." "We'll have to wait for one of his men to come to town an' trail him back," replied Gilbert. "What do you say that we try to run one more good herd an' then scout for them, or their trails?" asked Irwin. "Heah comes somebody," remarked Chet, listening. The sound of galloping grew rapidly louder and soon they saw Frisco turn into the street and ride towards them. As they saw him a quiet voice was heard behind them and looking up, they saw Nevada smiling at them. "Get him drunk an' keep him away from Quinn's," he counselled. They exchanged looks and then Elder stepped out into the street and held up his hand. "Hullo, Frisco!" he cried. "Where yuh been keeping yuhself foh so long?" asked Chet, affably. "Holed up som'ers?"