“If you don’t get called down by Miss Josephine when we get back to the ranch, I’ll buy you the best horse on the range.” Scotty turned and looked at Mason. “Laddie, don’t pay any attention to Red, let’s all have a drink on me.” “I’m not drinking, Scotty, but I’ll take a cigar with you.” “Well, Jack, we start in half an hour,” announced Red. “I’ll strap your luggage on my horse and send the supply wagon after the rest of your stuff.” Going out on the hotel porch, Mason watched the scene with interest. Scotty was leading two tough and wiry looking horses. He appeared so unsteady on his feet that Red started to help him. “Steady there!” he called out sharply. Scotty stiffened and glared at him. “Don’t think I’m all in,” he growled, frowning at his partner. With a flying leap he was in the saddle and dashed up to Mason leading a spare horse. “What kind of a horseman are you, laddie?” he asked. “Well, I never took any medals for fancy riding,” he confessed. Scotty grinned. “We have a nice little ride ahead of us,” he said, as he turned and watched Red coming up. Mason mounted his horse and the party started. Scotty was leading and singing snatches of Scotch songs. Mason lapsed into a moody silence and Red looked at him curiously as they rode along. The Easterner was thinking of the girl Red had mentioned and wondered if she was the girl his father had spoken of. Turning to Red he asked: “Who is this Miss Josephine you spoke to Scotty about?” “That’s old man Walters’ girl,” answered Red, as he rode his mount closer to Mason’s horse. “She’s the idol of the ranch,” he continued, “and the boys would fight for her at the drop of the hat. With the exception of one or two,” he added with an oath. “How’s that?” queried Mason in surprise. “Well,” grumbled Red, “there’s two cursed onery punchers on our range that I don’t trust no more then I would a rattlesnake.” Mason glancing ahead, noticed that Scotty had pulled his horse in and was listening with jaws tightly set. “Red, why don’t Walters get rid of these men?” queried the Easterner, coming back to the subject. “Oh, they are good men on the range, and the old man hates to let them go,” replied Red with a vicious look. “Ain’t I right, Scotty?” “Good, hell,” the Scot snarled, “if I had my way I would have cleaned up for them long ago.” “Well,” declared Red with a grin, “he’s got that out of his system. Scotty and those two punchers get along just like two strange bulldogs.” Mason was getting decidedly interested. “What particular thing have you got against these men?” he asked. The face of the cowboy took on a grim look.