Billy straightened and took a good look. If his simple plan was working it ought to be coming to fruition. Sure enough he made out a dot approaching in the distance, a fast-moving dot that could be nothing other than a machine. The car came straight to the gate that Billy had entered the previous afternoon and drew up at the pump house. Billy climbed down from the stack. A man stepped from the automobile. “Mr. Magee.” “That’s me,” said Billy. “My name is Arthur Ross. Mr. Mobray met me in town last night; he said to tell you that Jones gave him your letter. He just happened to meet him. He insisted that I come here without delay. He will come just as soon as he follows your instructions.” “Did he tell you what I wanted you for?” “No.” The young man was dressed in corduroys and a slouch hat; he had a family resemblance to the girl Billy had found on his homestead. “Come into the pump house.” The stranger read the words that Billy had tacked on the wall. His jaw dropped suddenly. “Where did you get this. Did Mr. Holman----” “Exactly.” “I do not understand.” “You will when that machine gets here.” Billy pointed to a car crossing the alfalfa. “They’s some people who carry this here stuff they call chivalry in their pocketbook. Holman’s a sweet, kind gentleman. Just now he’s coming to throw me off the ranch.” The other did not answer. He was watching the machine coming from the ranch house. It drew up at the shed. Holman was at the wheel and there was evidently something on his mind; at the sight of Arthur Ross he flushed slightly. “Ah, Mr. Ross.” Apparently he did not know what to say. “It is a fine morning. Is there--er--something that you want?” “Decidedly,” answered the young man, “but perhaps you had better talk to my friend here. He’s my agent.” Holman did not conceal his anger now. He turned to Billy Magee. “What do you want here! Do you know the rules of the Holman Land and Water Company? Git out!” Billy was modest to a tantalizing degree. He took off his hat and smiled, half in triumph and half in amusement. “Before I go, Mr. Holman, I would like to thank you for the killers that you sent after me a while ago. Also I would like to stay until that automobile gets here.” There was another machine coming through the gate. “I want to hear what the United States marshal has to say about it.” “The United States marshal!” “Exactly. If you will get out of the machine I have something to show you.” The big man did not like it but he did not demur. The three men entered the pump house. “Can you read, Mr. Holman?” “Humph!”