"No," agreed Ross. "If I had any sort of a job in the open I'd tackle that. By the way," he added, "did you know that Claib Wood was in town? Seems to me your brother and Claib had some trouble at Rawlins that winter we were all there." Mason laughed. "Sure they had some trouble; and just after it occurred Claib skipped. I never had a chance to speak to him about it. I heard the other day that he was in the country, but I didn't know that he was here in town." "He is," said Ross; "and if I were you I'd look out for him. Claib was drunk last night, and you know when he's drunk he's awful mean, and he certainly is quick with a gun." "So I always heard. He's quick with a gun, and he's mean; meaner, I expect, when he's drunk, but mean enough at any time. Now when he shot my brother in Rawlins, they hadn't had any words, or any quarrel. Rufe told me when he got well that he never did know why Claib shot him, and I always made up my mind that if I ever saw Claib I'd ask him." "Well, Jack," cautioned Ross, "if I were you I wouldn't do that. I wouldn't have any words with Claib Wood. You're too good a man to quarrel with him, because if you do quarrel with him, you'll be liable to get killed quick." "Oh, I don't expect that it's time yet for me to pass in my checks; but if I stay in town for twenty-four hours, and Claib is here, I can't help running up against him somewhere, and I reckon he won't forget whose brother I am." "No," said Ross; "he won't; that's a sure thing. I'd like to have you avoid him, if you can. Of course, you can't leave town because he's here, and you can't hide because he's here; but I do hope you won't quarrel with him, for he's mighty mean and mighty quick." "I'll have to do the best I can," replied Mason. "I don't want to get killed, and I don't want to have to kill anybody. See you later, Ross." He swung into the saddle, and fifty yards farther on turned into the livery barn where he unsaddled his horse, watered it, tied it in a stall and gave it some hay. At the little eating-place where he went for breakfast he had to wait a long time before anything was cooked, but about the middle of the morning he went back to Ross's house, where he had a pleasant and long talk with him, renewing old times. It was nearly noon when he went up the street again and entered the saloon. Half a dozen men were there. One or two were sitting at card-tables poring over old newspapers; two were playing a game of cards; and one was standing in front of the counter talking to the bar-tender. A glass of liquor which seemed just to have been filled rested on the counter directly in front of him. The man standing there was Claib Wood. Mason walked quietly into the room without receiving more than a casual glance from any one there, and was standing close to the counter before Wood saw him. "Well, I'm darned, if this ain't Jack Mason!" Wood exclaimed. "Where did you come from?"