Petty, unscrupulous, overbearing, Canby never attributed his failure to the proper cause, which was his unpleasant personality, but regarded it as a conspiracy on the part of Society to defeat him in his ambition and accordingly came to hate it. When he was not travelling he spent his time on the feudal estate he had created in Wyoming, where he had no visitors except Helene Spenceley and her brother, who came occasionally when invited. Protecting himself from invasion from the smaller cattlemen and homesteaders was in the nature of a recreation to Canby, who had various methods of ridding himself of their presence. Boise Bill was one of those he kept for the purpose of intimidating prospective settlers and was considered by him his ablest lieutenant. Theretofore when that person returned and stated that the job of running off the newcomer was one he did not care to tackle further, Canby could not fail to be impressed by the declaration. Among traits less agreeable, Boise Bill had a strong sense of humour, albeit of a somewhat ghoulish brand, usually. As he rode back to report to Canby, the ludicrous side of the encounter grew on him until it outweighed the chagrin he first had felt at getting the worst of it. Thinking of Wallie in his "dude" clothes, his face pale and his eyes gleaming, swinging the frying-pan in his rage at the loss of his supper, when a more experienced man would have thrown up his hands promptly, Boise Bill slapped his leg and rocked in the saddle as he chuckled: "That's the closest queak I ever had; he might a trembled his gun off and killed me!" To Canby he declared with a face that was unsmiling and solemn: "I 'low I got my share of nerve when it comes to a show-down, and I ain' no skim-milk runt, neither, but that nester--he's a giant--and hos-tile as they make 'em! He had me lookin' at my hole card from the outset." "Are you afraid of him?" Canby demanded, incredulously. "I wouldn't say I'm actually _afraid_ of him, but I got an old mother in southern Idyho that's dependin' on me and I can't afford to take chances." "I'll go myself," said Canby, curtly. "Don't let him git the drop on you," Boise Bill warned him. "I never _see_ anybody so quick as he is. He had out his weepon and was over the fire at me before I knew what was happenin'," with conviction. "He gets 'ringy'--that feller." Canby's cold gray eyes glittered, though he said nothing of his intentions. * * * * * Pinkey put up Wallie's silk tent and staked it, showed him how to hobble and picket his horse and to make baking-powder biscuit, and left him. "It'll be lonesome at first, and the work'll come hard on you, but you'll be jest as happy as if you was in your right mind, onct you git used to it," he assured Wallie. "The work doesn't bother me, but I imagine it will be lonesome."