Big Tom's scowl faded at the words. "I reckon I was hasty, Nelson," he said. Johnny spoke slowly, his voice metallic "You was so hasty you come near never gettin' over it. Put down th' gun." "I'm a mite touchy at----" "If you has anythin' to say, put--down--that--gun." "No offense?" "For th' third time: Put--down--that--gun." Big Tom shook his head and appeared to be genuinely sorry. He slid the gun back and picked up his chair. "You raised?" "I did. I advise you to call--and end it." "She's called. Five little hearts," said Big Tom, lying down his cards. "They're hasty, too. Queen full, count 'em. Let's liquor." The foreman paused in indecision. "Nelson----" "We all get touchy," interrupted Johnny, scraping in the winnings. "Will you drink with me?" "I'll take the same," said Big Tom, and he bought the next round, nodded his good night and went out. Johnny turned to Dave. "Will you oblige me by tellin' me what Mr. Huff got huffy about?" Dave hesitated, but Slim Hawkes laughed and answered for him, his slow drawl enhancing the humor of his tale, and wrinkles playing about his eyes and lips told of the enjoyment the picture gave to him. "Clear River crossed our range, flowed through Little Canyon, made a big bend on th' Bar H, passed out of East Canyon, an' flowed down the middle of th' SV. Three years ago a piece of Little Canyon busted loose an' slid down, blockin' th' river, which backed up, getting' higher an' higher, an' began to cut through its bank about three miles above. Big Tom got busy, _pronto_. He sends for a box of dynamite, sticks it around in th' _débris_ an' let's her go--_all_ of it. When th' earthquake stopped there was a second one in th' dust an' smoke--we all thought it was a delayed charge. It wasn't. It was a section of th' canyon wall, near a hundred feet long an' almost two hundred feet high. There was a shale fault runnin' down from th' top, back about forty feet. Everythin' in front of that was jarred loose an' slid. Th' canyon was choked so hard an' fast that it won't never get open again. Clear River kept right on a-cuttin', an' it now flows on th' other side of Pine Mountain, which means th' Bar H ain't got no water of its own, except a few muddy holes south an' west of th' ranch buildings. That's why he's touchy. But that's a long speech, an' a dry one. Let's all liquor again." CHAPTER III AN OBJECTION