Yet there was no more reason behind Teddy’s stubbornness than just this. It relieved him a great deal to feel that he was not giving in entirely to his hidden enemy--that he was contesting with him the supremacy of the small plot of ground that lay between the cattle and the grove of trees. If Teddy had ridden on without his hat, it would have meant that the gunman was the admitted ruler. Thus the Stetson stood for one of the vital principles of Teddy’s life--don’t give up in the face of danger. The two boys picketed their ponies near a bush, and sat down about two hundred yards from the cattle. Now and then a cow would leave the herd and trot toward them, but seeing they made no motion, it would trot back again. There was no danger from these Durhams, even to a man on foot. The sun was too warm, the air too pleasant, to waste energy on the pursuit of human beings. The cattle moved slowly, when they did move, to find new grazing spots, and the boys had no trouble in keeping behind them. An hour in one place, then a shift, when the ponies were led to the new resting place, and Teddy and Roy again threw themselves on the ground and talked. Roy made no mention of the ridiculous course of conduct they were following. He was wise enough to let a thing rest when he could not understand it. The hat had fallen quite a distance back, but Teddy had the spot marked. The day grew colder as the sun approached the horizon. Gradually the mountains took on that blueish tint that heralds the twilight. The moon arose, a pale, washed-out circlet in the azure sky. As the day darkened, the moon became brighter, and when it finally shone, an incandescent orb, Teddy arose. Night had come. “Now,” he said casually, “I’ll get my hat.” Roy stared at him curiously. “Going to ride over or walk?” “Walk. I know just where it is, and I might miss it on horseback. You stay here and watch the ponies, will you? Too bad we didn’t get in any fence repairing, but we can do that to-morrow.” He sauntered off, a strange figure in the moonlight. The cattle were some distance off now, and this was fortunate, for Durhams do not like men on foot near them at night. Now Teddy was directly in front of the grove of trees, and he halted to gaze at them steadily. If anyone were there, waiting, this should draw the fire. It was not quite so foolhardy a proceeding as it appeared. The light was very poor and the distance too great for accurate shooting. For a moment the boy stood there, then moved on. Not a sound disturbed the stillness of the night. There was no sign of life in the grove of trees. The hat was lying where it had fallen, near a bush. It looked like a mound of white sand as Teddy approached. He picked it up, dusted it off, felt with his finger the bullet hole, then clapped it on his head and started back. A voice, low, distinct, came to his ears, and he dropped to the ground with the limpness and suddenness of a man whose legs have turned to water.