"Any time you have a real grievance, Morgan, I'll be glad to consider it," said de Spain. "When one of your men is drunk and quarrelsome he will be put off like any other disturber. That we can't avoid. Public stages can't be run any other way." "All right," retorted Morgan. "If you take that tack for your new management, we'll see how you get along running stages down in this country." "We will run them peaceably, just as long as we can," smiled de Spain. "We will get on with everybody that gives us a chance." Morgan pointed a finger at him. "I give you a chance, de Spain, right now. Will you discharge Elpaso?" "No." Morgan almost caught his breath at the refusal. But de Spain could be extremely blunt, and in the parting shots between the two he gave no ground. "Jeffries put me here to stop this kind of rowdyism on the stages," he said to Lefever on their way back to the barn. "This is a good time to begin. And Sassoon and Gale Morgan are good men to begin with," he added. As the horses of the two men emerged from the canyon they saw a slender horsewoman riding in toward the barn from the Music Mountain trail. She stopped in front of McAlpin, the barn boss, who stood outside the office door. McAlpin, the old Medicine Bend barnman, had been promoted from Sleepy Cat by the new manager. De Spain recognized the roan pony, but, aside from that, a glance at the figure of the rider, as she sat with her back to him, was enough to assure him of Nan Morgan. He spurred ahead fast enough to overhear a request she was making of McAlpin to mail a letter for her. She also asked McAlpin, just as de Spain drew up, whether the down stage had passed. McAlpin told her it had. De Spain, touching his hat, spoke: "I am going right up to Sleepy Cat. I'll mail your letter if you wish." She looked at him in some surprise, and then glanced toward Lefever, who now rode up. De Spain was holding out his hand for the letter. His eyes met Nan's, and each felt the moment was a sort of challenge. De Spain, a little self-conscious under her inspection, was aware only of her rather fearless eyes and the dark hair under her fawn cowboy hat. "Thank you," she responded evenly. "If the stage is gone I will hold it to add something." So saying, she tucked the letter inside her blouse and spoke to her pony, which turned leisurely down the road. "I'm trying to get acquainted with your country to-day," returned de Spain, managing with his knee to keep his own horse moving alongside Nan as she edged away. She seemed disinclined to answer, but the silence and the awkwardness of his presence drew at length a dry disclaimer: "This is not my country." "I understood," exclaimed de Spain, following his doubtful advantage, "you lived out this way." "I live near Music Mountain," returned Nan somewhat ungraciously, using her own skill at the same time to walk her horse away from her unwelcome companion.