The lieutenant of rangers shook his dark curly head.

"Won't do, Duffield. Won't do at all," he said decisively. "You'd
ought to know law's on top in Texas these days."

Tom Long shouldered his way to the front. "Law! Where was the law when
this ruffian Kinney shot down my poor brother Dave? I guess a rope and
a cottonwood's good enough law for him. Anyhow, that's what he gits."

Fraser, hard-packed, lithe, and graceful, laid a friendly hand on the
other's shoulder and smiled sunnily at him.

"I know how you feel, Tom. We all thought a heap of Dave and you're
his brother. But Dave died for the law. Both you boys have always
stood for order. He'd be troubled if he knew you were turned enemy to
it on his account."

"I'm for justice, Steve. This skunk deserves death and I'm going to
see he gits it."

"No, Tom."

"I say yes. Y'u ain't sitting in this game, Steve."

"I reckon I'll have to take a hand then."

The ranger's voice was soft and drawling, but his eyes were
indomitably steady. Throughout the Southwest his reputation for
fearlessness was established even among a population singularly
courageous. The audacity of his daredevil recklessness was become a