“It’s nothin’ much,” Robin said, “except that I’ve been away for quite a while. Since I’ve been back and looked the ground over I reckon I’ll move on again. Nobody loves me and I’m out of a job,” he finished with a whimsical twist. It was true, but a truth so stated that it contained for Robin the germ of humor. “I thought maybe I’d sell you that hundred and sixty I homesteaded on the creek above Mayne’s.” “Oh, did you? You reckon I’m in the real estate business?” Sutherland rumbled. “You got your deed to it?” Robin nodded. “How much you reckon it’s worth?” “As much as I can get for it.” “Well, I might----” Sutherland stopped abruptly. Robin saw the change of expression cross his face. He heard the front door click. Out of one corner of his eye he saw Shining Mark come striding down between the counters. “You might what?” Robin prompted. But Sutherland clasped his hands over his rotund stomach and leaned back in his chair, silent and expressionless as a poker player nursing a pat hand. “Hello, Tyler.” Robin turned his head at Mark’s greeting. The quality of the man’s voice was the same, arrogant, subtly menacing. Robin didn’t even trouble to reply. He looked at Mark calmly, an outward, deceptive calm for within something was beginning to burn, a flame that he knew he must keep down. It was like being too close to a venomous snake--only, somehow, for Robin the snake’s fangs were drawn. He didn’t know why he felt so sure of that but he did. He was no more afraid of Shining Mark than he was afraid of Sutherland’s elderly bookkeeper, who was mildness personified, years of clerical work and domestic infelicity having rendered him harmless. He gazed at Mark with deliberate, insolent scrutiny. “They tell me you had an accident with your gun down on Birch,” he said at length. “Yeah. Fool thing to do,” Steele growled. It struck Robin that Shining Mark was a little uneasy. “Shot yourself with your own gun, eh?” Robin drawled. “Right in the wishbone, they say. Too bad it wasn’t about six inches higher. Seems like I heard, too, that it wasn’t quite accidental.” “What you tryin’ to do? Provoke me?” Steele asked coolly. “You act like you wanted to open up a package of trouble. I’d sure accommodate you on the spot if I was heeled. You act real bad when you happen to find me unarmed.” “You’re a liar as well as a thief,” Robin took a step toward him. “Do you want me to prove it?” Shining Mark’s face flamed. He looked at Robin, then at Sutherland sitting quietly in his chair, an impassive listener save that his eyes were narrowly watching both men. Mark stared at Robin. That youth laughed aloud in his enemy’s face. A whimsical thought took form in a play on words--steel had lost its temper! “You’re weakenin’, Mark,” he taunted. “I’ve just come in from Mayne’s ranch. I said you were a liar and a thief. I say it again.”