It ran in Robin’s mind that Steele had made his hand very strong. Every one knew what had happened at the dance on Little Eagle. The natural inference was that Robin was crazy jealous since according to current conventions he had every reason to be. Thus Robin’s threat would be tabbed as the fury of a jilted lover. If he jumped Steele and Steele killed him it would be a clear case of self-defense. Robin squirmed inwardly to think May Sutherland should regard him as merely a jealous man with an uncontrollable temper. But he couldn’t complain, he could not now of all times put forward his uncorroborated word that Shining Mark simply wanted him out of the way because Mark was rustling stock and Robin Tyler had discovered certain incriminating facts. “If everybody in Big Sandy has me sized up that way you won’t get much credit for sittin’ here talkin’ to me,” he said soberly. “I don’t have to care what any one in Big Sandy thinks of what I do--except my father,” she flashed at him. Her next sentence startled Robin. “Why did you call him a cow thief? It isn’t like you to call names.” It was on the tip of Robin’s tongue to say, “Because he is,” but he checked that answer. His mind was getting back to its normal acuteness. If May wondered why he flung that at Mark, so might others wonder--even Sutherland himself, being a cattle owner, might privily ask himself if there _could_ be any such fire behind the smoke. As matters stood, what he knew about Steele and Thatcher and the T Bar S might prove as effective a weapon to fight Steele as any .45, if he could live long enough to use it. He could blunt the edge of that weapon by unsupported accusation now. They would say that young Tyler was shooting off his face instead of his gun. “I got nothin’ to say about that,” he told May. “In fact I got no more to say about the whole business. I got something to do about it, but I’m headed off just now because I can neither beg, borrow, nor steal a gun in this town, and I don’t own one. I will, though, before long.” “You’re determined to go through with this?” “Say, you’ve grown up in this country, even if you went away to be educated,” Robin said impatiently. “You know I can’t back up now. I couldn’t live in this country if I went side-steppin’ Mark Steele after this. You ought to know. Your dad has killed two men that I know of in his time.” May had a pair of gloves in her hands. She twisted them, straightened them out, and crumpled them up again. Robin sat silent. The girl rose to her feet. “I wish you luck,” she said in a wistful tone. “It seems to me utterly and terribly foolish for you to make a threat in a passion and then in cold blood live up to it. That’s carrying regard for your word too far.” “I have a regard for my word,” Robin said stiffly. “I never broke it yet. I don’t say things I don’t mean.” “Even in anger?” “I never was so mad I’d say what I didn’t mean,” Robin protested. “That’s when a man _does_ say what he means. I do anyway.”