“I dassent,” Bond whined. “I don’t know nothin’ about cattle. Never owned a hoof. Havin’ this T Bar S registered in my name was just a favor to a certain party. You can’t put nothin’ on me for that.” “Can’t I? How much did you get for this favor--from this party?” Robin jeered. “Talk right out loud, Mr. J. Bond.” “A couple of hundred,” Bond admitted, with sullen reluctance. “But you can’t hang nothin’ on me for that, either.” “Men have been hung for less in the cow country,” Robin said grimly. “Who is this party?” Bond shook his head stubbornly. “Hell!” he cried. “Why don’t you grab the cattle and make him show his hand?” Robin stared at the saloon man for a minute. Certain possibilities occurred to him on the heels of that remark. But he wanted something more definite. “Spit his name out,” he said harshly. “I can guess it--but I want to hear you say it out loud.” Again Bond demurred. Panic was beginning to show in his face. “All right, then,” Robin said and rose. “You come with me.” He wasn’t afraid of Bond holding out to the bitter end. The man was too frightened. And under Robin’s threatening attitude he weakened instantly. “Oh, Lord,” Bond threw out both hands despairingly. “If you got to know, why the feller that owns the T Bar S, that has owned them ever since that stock went down to the Bear Paws, is Mark Steele, range boss of the Block S, Adam Sutherland’s outfit.” “I expected he did,” Robin answered coolly. “Now how does he hold title to ’em when you have the brand registered in your name?” “I got the brand with money he furnished,” Bond admitted sullenly. “Then I turned around and gave him a legal bill of sale. But he didn’t want the brand transferred. He got me to hold it in my name.” “I see,” Robin nodded. “An’ what beef was shipped you collected the money an’ paid it over to Mark. And so on.” He drummed on the table reflectively for a few seconds. “Well, if Mark Steele owns the T Bar S I can’t buy it from you, can I? You just forget we had this conversation until--well, if it should happen that Shinin’ Mark got into trouble you might have to explain the circumstances of this bill of sale in court.” “If he was where he couldn’t get at me, I’d like to wash my hands of the whole business,” Bond said morosely. “He was up here this spring threatenin’ all sorts of things if I ever opened my trap. He was worried about somethin’. I don’t mind sayin’ I’m scared of him. He’s dangerous.” “I guess maybe he is,” Robin agreed. “So you better never admit to him that you told me who owned the T Bar S. At the same time you better disown that brand. There’s goin’ to be a mix up over those cattle by and by. That’s all. So long.”