"Well, suh, I'll tell you the whole story. It's sho't. Twenty minutes ago I ente'ed the Palace Saloon. While drinking at the bah I could not help but overheah the conve'sation of half-a-dozen 88 cowboys. One of them, a man named Rudd, mentioned youah name and called you a rustlah. "You, Tom, are my friend, and, since I was unaware that you were in town, I felt that I could not stand idly by. I info'med this Rudd person that traducing the absent was not the act of a gentleman. I also called him a ---- scoundrel and a liah to boot. He took exception to my wo'ds and, I was fo'ced to shoot him. "You unde'stand, Tom, that I acted in complete good faith. I believed you to be at the Bah S. Otherwise, I should have repo'ted the mattah to you. Of co'se, I would have stood at youah back while you shot the rascal. His ruffianly friends ah not to be trusted." "Don't apologize, Cap'n," said Loudon, and he reached across the table and shook hands again. Captain Burr appeared to be greatly comforted at Loudon's ready acceptance of his explanation, and he attacked his beef and beans with appetite. The captain was a good deal of a mystery to the folk with whom he came in contact. His mode of speech and his table manners were not those of ordinary men. But he was a man, with all that the name implies, and as such they had learned to accept him. I employ "learned" advisedly. Certain unthinking individuals had, when the captain was a comparative stranger in that region, commented upon his traits and received a prompt and thorough chastening. Captain Burr gained thereby an enviable reputation. In reality there was no mystery attached to the old tin-peddler. He had simply been born a gentleman. "Did Rudd die?" inquired Loudon in a tone of studied casualness, when he had finished his meal. "He did not," replied the Captain. "Unless blood-poisoning sets in he will live to be hung. My bullet broke his ahm. He rode away with his comrades five minutes lateh. No doubt he was in some pain, but the rogue was suffering much less than he dese'ved. I realize that I should have killed him, of co'se, but as I grow oldeh I find myself becoming soft-heahted. Time was--but one must not dwell in the past. These beans ah excellent, Tom." "They are. Pullin' out soon?" "At once. I'm bound no'th. I intend to visit all the ranches between heah and Paradise Bend. I hope to be home in two weeks. Ah you travelling my way?" "Yep. I guess I'm bound for the Bend, too." "Then I will ask you to deliveh a letteh to my wife. I missed the Bend stage by two houahs to-day, and theah is no otheh fo' three days." Loudon took the letter and placed it carefully in the inside pocket of his vest.