“I reckon we've all said that. None of the gang wants to quit. They all think, and I think, we can't be touched. We may be blamed, but nothing can be proved. We're too strong.” “There's where you're dead wrong,” rejoined Longstreth, emphatically. “I imagined that once, not long ago. I was bullheaded. Who would ever connect Granger Longstreth with a rustler gang? I've changed my mind. I've begun to think. I've reasoned out things. We're crooked, and we can't last. It's the nature of life, even here, for conditions to grow better. The wise deal for us would be to divide equally and leave the country, all of us.” “But you and I have all the stock--all the gain,” protested Lawson. “I'll split mine.” “I won't--that settles that,” added Lawson, instantly. Longstreth spread wide his hands as if it was useless to try to convince this man. Talking had not increased his calmness, and he now showed more than impatience. A dull glint gleamed deep in his eyes. “Your stock and property will last a long time--do you lots of good when this ranger--” “Bah!” hoarsely croaked Lawson. The ranger's name was a match applied to powder. “Haven't I told you he'd be dead soon--any time--same as Laramie is?” “Yes, you mentioned the--the supposition,” replied Longstreth, sarcastically. “I inquired, too, just how that very desired event was to be brought about.” “The gang will lay him out.” “Bah!” retorted Longstreth, in turn. He laughed contemptuously. “Floyd, don't be a fool. You've been on the border for ten years. You've packed a gun and you've used it. You've been with rustlers when they killed their men. You've been present at many fights. But you never in all that time saw a man like this ranger. You haven't got sense enough to see him right if you had a chance. Neither have any of you. The only way to get rid of him is for the gang to draw on him, all at once. Then he's going to drop some of them.” “Longstreth, you say that like a man who wouldn't care much if he did drop some of them,” declared Lawson; and now he was sarcastic. “To tell you the truth, I wouldn't,” returned the other, bluntly. “I'm pretty sick of this mess.” Lawson cursed in amazement. His emotions were all out of proportion to his intelligence. He was not at all quick-witted. Duane had never seen a vainer or more arrogant man. “Longstreth, I don't like your talk,” he said. “If you don't like the way I talk you know what you can do,” replied Longstreth, quickly. He stood up then, cool and quiet, with flash of eyes and set of lips that told Duane he was dangerous. “Well, after all, that's neither here nor there,” went on Lawson, unconsciously cowed by the other. “The thing is, do I get the girl?” “Not by any means except her consent.” “You'll not make her marry me?” “No. No,” replied Longstreth, his voice still cold, low-pitched. “All right. Then I'll make her.”