Ricker announced that he was ready, and the two combatants began to circle around, each looking for an opening. Mason held his hands as though to grapple with his opponent, when Ricker, thinking he saw an opportunity to get a hold, suddenly darted in and received a swinging blow to the jaw that dazed him. He fell into a crouch, as the blow had hurt him, and took a lightning uppercut for his pains. As he backed away, Mason could see that he was full of fight and a hog for punishment. The man was a regular giant in stature and the way he recovered from the effect of the blows amazed Mason. He decided to change his tactics. Ricker rushed him furiously, his great brawny arm trying to encircle Mason’s body. Mason easily side-stepped this mad rush and shot a snappy punch to his opponent’s eye, completely closing that member. He followed this blow with a series of body punches before Ricker could clinch him. Mason worked his arms free and swung a fierce left to Ricker’s face cutting a wide gash over his other eye, and causing him to back away cursing. Mason followed up his advantage, swinging short body blows that brought a spasm of pain to Ricker’s face. The bully was breaking ground now before Mason’s relentless smashes and tried to clinch at every opportunity. “I knew you had a streak of yellow in you, Ricker,” Mason said coolly as he evaded a wild swing. “Why, your efforts are clumsy, stand up like a man and take a licking.” Ricker bellowed like a bull at the taunt and rushed at Mason in a wild attempt to finish his nimble opponent with a single blow. The bully’s eyes were nearly closed and his breath came in gasps. His men sat amazed at the easy way Mason was handling him. Some of them nervously fingered their guns, but Bud was watching every move sharply and they didn’t dare make any display of force. Mason set himself and met Ricker’s bull-like rush with a powerful blow to the jaw. The man’s head snapped back while his heels were lifted clear from the ground. Mason had scored a clean knockout, scarcely receiving a scratch himself. It took some time for Ricker’s men to bring him to, and as he climbed weakly on his horse he pointed a shaking finger at Mason. “You haven’t seen the last of me, young fellow,” he swore between swollen lips; “I’m going to get you for this, and I want to tell you, too, Anderson, if I catch any of your men on my range, I’m going to make an example of them.” “That is an idle threat, Ricker,” Bud retorted calmly; “none of my men will venture on your range unless there is a good reason, and then you may be sure I will come with them.” Ricker frowned darkly at this return to his threat. He gave a command to his men and soon the band were in motion. Josephine watched them in the distance through her field glasses and saw they were taking the fork in the trail toward Trader’s Post.