“Who wouldn't? Thet big beast is enough to scare any one. For land's sakes, don't ever fetch him down here again! I'll never forgit the time you did. All the folks an' children an' hosses in Pine broke an' run thet day.” “Yes; but Tom wasn't to blame. Auntie, he's the tamest of my pets. Didn't he try to put his head on your lap an' lick your hand?” “Wal, Milt, I ain't gainsayin' your cougar pet didn't act better 'n a lot of people I know. Fer he did. But the looks of him an' what's been said was enough for me.” “An' what's all that, Auntie?” “They say he's wild when out of your sight. An' thet he'd trail an' kill anythin' you put him after.” “I trained him to be just that way.” “Wal, leave Tom to home up in the woods--when you visit us.” Dale finished his hearty meal, and listened awhile longer to the old woman's talk; then, taking his rifle and the other turkey, he bade her good-by. She followed him out. “Now, Milt, you'll come soon again, won't you--jest to see Al's niece--who'll be here in a week?” “I reckon I'll drop in some day.... Auntie, have you seen my friends, the Mormon boys?” “No, I 'ain't seen them an' don't want to,” she retorted. “Milt Dale, if any one ever corrals you it'll be Mormons.” “Don't worry, Auntie. I like those boys. They often see me up in the woods an' ask me to help them track a hoss or help kill some fresh meat.” “They're workin' for Beasley now.” “Is that so?” rejoined Dale, with a sudden start. “An' what doin'?” “Beasley is gettin' so rich he's buildin' a fence, an' didn't have enough help, so I hear.” “Beasley gettin' rich!” repeated Dale, thoughtfully. “More sheep an' horses an' cattle than ever, I reckon?” “Laws-a'-me! Why, Milt, Beasley 'ain't any idea what he owns. Yes, he's the biggest man in these parts, since poor old Al's took to failin'. I reckon Al's health ain't none improved by Beasley's success. They've bad some bitter quarrels lately--so I hear. Al ain't what he was.” Dale bade good-by again to his old friend and strode away, thoughtful and serious. Beasley would not only be difficult to circumvent, but he would be dangerous to oppose. There did not appear much doubt of his driving his way rough-shod to the dominance of affairs there in Pine. Dale, passing down the road, began to meet acquaintances who had hearty welcome for his presence and interest in his doings, so that his pondering was interrupted for the time being. He carried the turkey to another old friend, and when he left her house he went on to the village store. This was a large log cabin, roughly covered with clapboards, with a wide plank platform in front and a hitching-rail in the road. Several horses were standing there, and a group of lazy, shirt-sleeved loungers. “I'll be doggoned if it ain't Milt Dale!” exclaimed one. “Howdy, Milt, old buckskin! Right down glad to see you,” greeted another. “Hello, Dale! You air shore good for sore eyes,” drawled still another.