It had been said by expert judges of good fighters that a blow from Yuma's fist would drop a bull. He had once been locked in the back room of a saloon with four men in what was to be a fight to the finish--Yuma's finish, supposedly. A short time later his fists crashed through the panels of a locked door and a mighty demon of a man walked out. His clothing was in shreds. Inside the room, debris and wreckage were everywhere, and four men were prostrate on the floor. "You needn't rub the hide off him," said Penny as she came near. Yuma looked up and grew red in the face. Before the pretty girl, the giant was flushed and bashful. "Shore, ma'am, I'm right sorry. I--I had a little time on my hands an' seen yore hoss. Bein' as you warn't around, I figgered tuh clean the hoss up some." "And if I'd been around," replied the girl in a teasing voice, "I suppose you'd have cleaned _me_ up." Yuma stared, mouth open. "Y-y-yew, g-g-gosh, Miss Penelope, I--er--uh...." He paused, completely at a loss. Penny really enjoyed watching the young giant squirm in his embarrassment. She rested her elbows on a rail of the corral, and hooked the heel of one boot on a lower rail. Leaning back, she watched him for a moment, then said, "What's your name?" "Folks jest sort o' call me 'Yuma'--that's where I come from, Yuma." "But everyone has to have at least two names. Don't you have any other?" "Most o' the gents I seen around this yere Basin lays claim tuh a couple o' names an' lies when they does so." Yuma straightened and looked directly at the girl with his clear blue eyes. "That remark," she said, "calls for a little expanding. What do you mean?" "Oh, 'tain't nothin' tuh take offense at," the blond man said slowly. "A lot o' gents in this country left their right names east of the Mississippi, but I'd sooner not use any name than tuh borrow one that might belong tuh some other gent." Penny feigned a bit of anger. "Do you mean to imply that Cavendish isn't our right name?" "Aw, shucks, ma'am--nothin' like that. I reckon you an' yore relatives has a right tuh the name, but they hain't many others on this spread that was born with the handle they're usin' right now." "Go on, Yuma. This is interesting." Yuma saw Rangoon crossing toward the bunkhouse from the saddle shed. "Thar," he said, "goes a gent that lays claim tuh the name o' Rangoon. Last time I seen him, he called himself Abe Larkin, but he made that name sort o' dangerous by usin' it when he shot up a couple homesteaders near Snake Flats." "You mean he's a murderer?" "That's what the law'd like tuh hang him fer bein' if they knowed where tuh reach him."