"Yeh, I was tellin' yuh to stay clear of it 'cause it ain't nothin' but a lot of buttes with hard pan between them. Yuh can get lost there easy. Yuh could drive a hundred cows over this here hard pan and never leave no trail a-tall 'cause it's just like stone. An' there's a thousan' trails windin' about in there. Some of 'em is blind ones an' they twist about scandalously. Then, besides, 'Boston Jack' don't like folks wanderin' about the buttes." From the corner of his eye, Allen saw that both the McGills were watching him and whispering to each other. He saw them slowly arise to their feet and move toward him. Mac came directly toward him and Sandy circled the table to take him in the rear. It was coming. "Who's this here Boston Jack?" he asked, and there was no quiver in his voice--nothing to show that he knew he might be dead in sixty seconds. His voice was eager, curious. "He's the gent what bought the ol' Double B Ranch after the bank foreclosed. It's about twenty mile from here, tother side of the Hard Pan. He's runnin' hosses, but folks figger he's runnin' cows on the side--other folks' cows--but they never can catch him." The garrulous Shorty paused to yank off a chew from a piece of black plug. "Stay put!" Mac snapped. Shorty looked up, saw Mac with his gun out, and then promptly fell over sideways to be out of the way. At the same time Mac spoke, Allen's arms were seized by Sandy from behind. "I ain't done nothin'," Allen cried. He struggled to his feet and tried to free himself from Sandy's iron grip. As he struggled, he ducked his head to shield his face with his hat brim and blinked his eyes. He knew that they were what would be most likely to give him completely away. "Dang yuh, I ain't done nothin', let me be!" he again cried in a perfect imitation of an angry boy. "Stay still. What's your name an' where do yuh come from?" Mac asked coolly. Allen felt Sandy's hands exploring beneath his arms and every other place where it would be possible to conceal a gun. "My name's Ashton, from down Fort Worth way. Mr. McCann brought me out here," he replied. "Yuh know One-wing?" Mac asked sharply. "Sure, I see them arrive together, an' One-wing tol' Spur he knew him," one of the other gunmen volunteered. "An' he ain't heeled," Sandy announced. "Guess we made a mistake--no wolf would travel without his teeth," Mac smiled thinly. Sandy released him, and Allen pretended to trip and fall to the floor. The shadows were deeper there. "Who'd yuh think he was?" a gunman asked, as the two returned to their table. "One of them Allen twins," Mac replied shortly. "Ha-ha-ha!" Shortly laughed. "That's a hell of a joke on them--they took yuh for the Killer Wolf." "Dang fools," Allen grumbled, as he arose to his feet and ruefully rubbed his arms where they had been seized by Sandy's steellike fingers.