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man who had been in to see him. He liked the look of him. Reminded him a lot of the father Chad though this one was taller. He hadn’t looked like a man who would wait for the law to do what he thought he ought to do himself. Malloy was going to have trouble withthat young man unless he got to the man he wanted himself first.
    He ran his mind over McAllister’s description of the man several times and each time came up with the same name. When Jim Carson his deputy came in he gave him the description and asked him what name he would put to it.
    â€œLink Forster,” he said.
    â€œThat’s what I was afraid of,” Malloy said. He thought about it for a good half-hour, then he got to his feet, buckled on his gun, put on his jacket and hat and walked out onto the street. He crossed the street to the Golden Fleece run by the Darcy brothers from Texas and asked Fred where Forster hung out. Fred told him the name of the hotel and he walked there. He asked the number of the room from the clerk, walked up the stairs and tapped on the door.
    â€œWho is it?”
    â€œMalloy, marshal.”
    There came the sound of a chair being removed from under the door-handle. So the man was nervous.
    The door opened and Forster revealed himself. Malloy started, for the man’s appearance had almost completely changed. The beard was gone and so was the mustache; the hair had been slicked down and darkened by grease.
    Malloy smiled a little.
    â€œI wouldn’t have known you, Link.”
    Forster tried a laugh. It sounded quite well.
    â€œNothing like a change,” he said.
    Yes, thought Malloy, the man was educated all right. He’d been to school in the east or even England. Malloy was a great admirer of education, but he didn’t admire this man. He judged him for what he was, a proud, vain and ambitious man. And he didn’t like work. The world owed him a living.
    Malloy walked into the room, turned a hard back chair and sat on it facing the back. Forster looked at him angrily for a moment, then shut the door. He feared the little marshal, as did most men, and he didn’t know why. Nor did any other man know why the little man was to be feared. He wasn’t violent, he carried a gun but seldom used it, when he used it he wasn’t particularly fast or accurate. It was as though Malloy had a physical ascendency over him. It could simply have been that he had no fear and was supremely confident.
    â€œYou’ve been out of town,” Malloy said. “Where’d you go?”
    Forster looked down at him from his much greater height.
    â€œIs that any business of yours?” he demanded.
    Malloy thrust out his chin, his great mustache bristled.
    â€œI’ll have none of your sass, Forster,” he barked.
    â€œI’ll be the judge of whether something is my business or not. When I ask a question I get an answer or I come to certain conclusions. Now where’d you go when you left town?”
    Fury showed on Forster’s face, his pale eyes snapped. This was too much for his pride.
    â€œWhat I do outside this town is my own business,” he said, “and I’ll thank you to stay out of it.”
    â€œYou won’t thank me to stay out of it,” Malloy told him, “when you learn why I’m questioning you.”
    â€œWhat does that mean?”
    â€œThere’s a man in town come here for the express purpose of killing you,” Malloy stated.
    Forster looked startled.
    â€œHow do you know this?”
    â€œHe came to me. Mind you, it would probably be no loss to the world if he carried out his threat. But I don’t like killings in my town. My advice to you is clear out while the going’s good.”
    â€œWhy don’t you arrest him?”
    â€œHe hasn’t done anything.”
    â€œBut he’s threatened me.”
    â€œIt was just an impression I gained. He wants you for lifting Circle S cows, Forster. I have eyes. Holst shipped