"Why, all last night as we rode along he was singing and whistling and making jokes, and telling funny stories. Three or four times I nearly fell off my horse from laughing at him; and yet the day before that, according to the story, he beat up a man in town so that he will have to be in bed for six weeks." "Beat up a man!" exclaimed Jack. "That couldn't have been Mason." "Why," said Donald, in some confusion, "I hope it is not a secret. Everybody in town was talking about it. I was only there a few hours, and five or six men spoke to me about it. It seems that a man there tried to draw his gun on Mason, and Mason was too quick for him. He picked him up and threw him pretty nearly through the side of the house and almost broke his neck." "Great Cæsar's ghost!" exclaimed Jack. "That will be news to everybody in this camp." "Hold on," said Donald; "I wish you would not say anything about it until somebody else does. I do not want to be carrying gossip around from one place to another; but, as I told you, it was the only thing that they were talking about in town day before yesterday. I fancy it is the most exciting thing that has happened there for a long time." "Yes," assented Jack, "I guess it's quiet enough there most of the time; but say, what was the name of this man that Mason got into a quarrel with?" "I cannot remember what the full name was, but almost everybody spoke of him as 'Claib.' I do not know any such name as that, but I suppose it may be a nickname." "Good Lord!" cried Jack; "why that must be Claib Wood! They say he is one of the worst men in the country--a regular killer. He was ordered away from here because he was suspected of cattle stealing--and they say that there is hardly anybody in the country as quick with a gun as he is." "Well, he was not quick enough for Mason, it seems," said Donald. "I asked one of the men in the saloon how it happened, and he said it was so quick he really did not know how it did happen. He said that the two men seized hold of each other, and that Mason called out to somebody to take away both guns, that there was not to be a shooting-match; and then a minute or two later Mason lifted up Claib and threw him against the side of the house and through the plaster and almost out through the boards. I saw the place and it certainly did look as if something very heavy had been thrown against the wall." "I'd like to know just what happened," said Jack; "but one could not very well ask Mason; and I suppose we will have to wait until somebody comes out from town to tell us the news." "If you don't mind, I'd rather not have you say anything about what I have told you, to any one here, for, as I say, I do not want to be carrying tales."