"Say," said Loudon, "when you've done left me, I wish yuh'd send my hoss an' saddle to Johnny Ramsay o' the Cross in-a-box. Johnny's at the Bar S now--got a few holes in him. But you send the hoss to Jack Richie an' tell him to keep him for Johnny till he comes back. Don't mind doin' that, do yuh? Ain't aimin' to keep the cayuse, are yuh?" "Do you know Johnny Ramsay?" queried Mackenzie. "Ought to. Johnny an' me've been friends for years." "Know Jack Richie?" "Know him 'most as well as I do Johnny. An' I know Cap'n Burr, too. Didn't yuh see me there at his house?" "The Cap'n knows lots o' folks, an' it ain't hard to scrape acquaintance with a couple o' soft-hearted women." "I brought up a letter from Cap'n Burr to his wife. You ask her." "Oh, shore. Yuh might 'a' carried a letter an' still be what I take yuh for.'" "Now we're back where we started. What do yuh take me for?" Mackenzie made no reply. Again there fell between the two men that spirit-breaking silence. It endured a full five minutes, to be broken finally by Mackenzie. "Git aboard yore hoss," said the ranch-owner. "An' don't go after no gun." "I'd rather draw what's comin' to me on the ground," objected Loudon. "It ain't so far to fall." "Ain't nothin' comin' to yuh yet. Git aboard, go on to the ranch, an' tell my foreman, Doubleday, I sent yuh, an' that I won't be back yet awhile." "I ain't so shore I want to work for yuh now." "There ain't no two ways about it. You'll either give me yore word to go on to the ranch an' stay there till I come, or yuh'll stay right here. After I come back yuh can quit if yuh like." "That's a harp with another tune entirely. I'll go yuh." Loudon turned to his horse and swung into the saddle. "Keep a-goin' along this trail," directed Mackenzie, his six-shooter still covering Loudon. "It's about eight mile to the ranch." Loudon did not look back as he rode away. CHAPTER VIII THE AMAZING MACKENZIE Doubleday, a squat man with a sharp nose and a sharper eye, evinced no surprise at his employer's message. He merely swore resignedly on learning that Mackenzie had not sent in the mail by Loudon, and in the same breath thanked his Maker that a new man had arrived. The advent of Loudon was most opportune, according to Doubleday. For, one "Lanky" having taken a wife and removed to the Sweet River Agency, the Flying M was a man short. "Turn yore hoss into the big corral," said Doubleday, when he had sufficiently condemned the foolishness of Lanky, "an' take yore saddle over to the bunkhouse. There's three empty bunks. Help yoreself. Then c'mon over to the little corral an' bring yore rope. Got an outlaw stallion with a cut hind leg, an' it's a two-man job." Loudon found favour in the eyes of Doubleday. The former Bar S puncher did his work easily and well. He proved a better roper than Doubleday, and he was the equal in horsemanship of "Telescope" Laguerre, the half-breed buster.