"Maybe I'm a liar," repeated Duncan. "But if you'll use your brain a little you'll see that things look bad for you. Dakota's been here. Did he tell you about Langford coming to see him? I reckon not," he added as he caught Doubler's blank stare; "he'd likely not tell you about it. But I reckon that if he was your friend he'd tell you. I reckon you told him about Langford wanting your land--about him telling you he'd make things hot for you?" Doubler nodded silently, and Duncan continued. "Well," he said, with a short laugh, "I've told you, and it's up to you. They were talking about you, and if Dakota's your friend, as you're claiming him to be, he'd have told you what they was talking about--if it wasn't what I say it was--him knowing how Langford feels toward you. And they didn't only talk. Langford wrote something on a paper and gave it to Dakota. I don't know what he wrote, but it seemed to tickle Dakota a heap. Leastways, he done a heap of laffing over it. Likely Langford's promised him a heap of dust to do the job. Mebbe he's your friend, but if I was you I wouldn't give him no chance to say I drawed first." Doubler placed his rifle down and passed a hand slowly and hesitatingly over his forehead. "I don't like to think that of Dakota," he said, faith and suspicion battling for supremacy. "Dakota just left here; he acted a heap friendly--as usual--mebbe more so." "I reckon that when a man goes gunning for another man he don't advertise a whole lot," observed Duncan insinuatingly. "No," agreed Doubler, staring blankly into the distance where he had last seen his supposed friend, "a man don't generally do a heap of advertisin' when he's out lookin' for a man." He sat for a time staring straight ahead, and then he suddenly looked up, his eyes filled with a savage fierceness. "How do I know you ain't lyin' to me?" he demanded, glaring at Duncan, his hands clenched in an effort to control himself. Duncan's eyes did not waver. "I reckon you _don't_ know whether I'm lying," he returned, showing his teeth in a slight smile. "But I reckon you're twenty-one and ought to have your eye-teeth cut. Anyway, you ought to know that a man like Langford, who's wanting your land, don't go to talk with a man like Dakota, who's some on the shoot, for nothing. How do you know that Langford and Dakota ain't friends? How do you know but that they've been friends back East? Do you know where Dakota came from? Mebbe he's from the East, too. I'm telling you one thing," added Duncan, and now his voice was filled with passion, "Dakota and Sheila Langford are pretty thick. She makes believe that she don't like him, but he saved her from a quicksand, and she's been running with him considerable. Takes his part, too; does it, but she makes you believe that she don't like him. I reckon she's pretty foxy."