"Well," Weston continued, "to make a long story short, I was foreman on a cattle ranch in Oklahoma two years ago. Sandy and Mart came around wanting a job, and I gave 'em one on the same ranch. Then came the big round-up at North Fork--and there was trouble between the sheep and cattle men." Weston hesitated and looked down. He raised his hand to his breast pocket and let it fall at his side. "The night the round-up ended most of us--got drunk." He paused, shook himself impatiently, and hurried on: "I didn't go with the rest intending to drink--but I did, what with treating and all that. And when I come to myself, Sandy told me I was one of the men who had done the job on the Quinn sheep. And, knowing what I am when drunk, I believed him and cleared out with him and Mart over the Texas line, and----" his hand traveled to his hair completing the sentence. "I see!" exclaimed Ross excitedly; "and since then Sandy has held that over you." Weston nodded. "I was sick of drink, but I got sick of it too late, you see. I'd put a lasso round my own neck just when I most wanted to be free." His hand again wandered toward his breast pocket. "But now," he added, "I am free." He lifted his head proudly and turning, was aware for the first time of Leslie's presence. As the hands of the two met Ross strode across the room and began speaking loudly and at random to the others, leaving Sue's lover and Sue's brother to talk alone. Presently, however, unable to restrain the question longer, Ross turned again on Weston. "Sandy stole our sticks, didn't he?" he demanded, "and planned the whole thing to get rid of me?" Weston turned slowly back to his bunk. For a moment he fumbled among the blankets in silence. Then he faced about again resolutely. "Say, Doc, you have your claims here secure, haven't you, and Sandy has lost 'em?" "Yes, thanks to you." "And you've got outside of enough of those books so you can go to college next year, eh?" "Yes, again thanks to you!" "And," here Weston glanced at Leslie, "Sandy has dropped a finger somewhere in the game." Leslie could not restrain a look of exultation. "Yes." "Well, then, let this thing drop, will you? Sandy hain't all to the bad. He's pulled me out of as many holes as he's chucked me into; and I--well, I--say, Doc, call it square, will you?" Ross glanced from his father to his uncle and then at Steele. A glance satisfied him. Stepping forward, he extended his hand. "It's square, Weston, and I'll let everything go except--I can't forget that you've pulled me out of a pretty big hole--the worst one I ever dropped into." The Books of this Series are: ROSS GRANT, TENDERFOOT ROSS GRANT, GOLD HUNTER