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dollars) a head. Both parties to this knowing the said cattle to be culls sold to me by my neighbor, Texas John Slaughter and bearing his imvented brand. Signed, Samuel Smith. Witnessed, Base Cordon and Thomas Hatcher."
    "See," Chisum said in an aggrieved tone. "I bought them cattle in good faith from one of your neighbors."
    "You're no fool, Chisum," Slaughter replied. "And don't try to make me out one. There's no Lazy S in Blantyre County and no rancher called Samuel Smith."
    "Are you telling me I didn't buy them cattle—"
    "Sure you bought them. But you danmed well knew they weren't culls, and you sure as hell ought to have known there was something wrong with the cattle when you got them for three dollars a head."
    "That biU of sale—^" Chisum began.
    He did not get a chance to finish his words. The bill of sale he held might pass as legally binding in the

    rough-and-ready courts of the West, especially when pushed by a man as rich and powerful as Chisum. Only it was not Slaughter's way to argue dubious legal points when he had ri^t on his side.
    Tm taking them back,'' he said.
    It was neither a question nor a request, but a plain, straightforward statement of fact.
    Twisting in his saddle, Chisum looked to where his herd approached the stream. Soon he would have his full force of "warriors" on hand, better than fair backing against three men, even three such men as Slaughter and his hands. So Chisiun elected to show his defiance and prove once and for all who was Cattle King.
    'Tfou and who—" he snarled, swinging to face the three Texans.
    Removing his unlit cigar. Slaughter pursed his lips and gave a shrill whistle that chopped oflF Chisum's words and answered them imsaid Suddenly men began to appear behind Slaughter. They came into view from the shelter and cover of rocks and trees, or popped up momentarily from holes in the groimd, appearing in places where they coidd pour lead down at tiie stream, rake it from side to side, yet offer poor targets for men trying to return the compliment. Each man who appeared held a rifle in his hands, made his presence known, then dropped into cover once more.
    'Tfs your choice," Slaughter pointed out, after his men had shown themselves present then disappeared again. ^'Either we cut out my stuff easy, or we do it the hard way. Only you likely won't have much of a herd left by the time the shootiug stops."
    Chisum was licked and he knew it. Although he never wore a gun and had successfully avoided joining either side during the war, he had a fighting man's eye and knew when a position was so impossible that surrender must be the only answer. Knowing his men, he doubted if they would try to force a crossing in the face of the J.S. rifles; even if he risked giving the order and chanced his herd being stampeded and scattered to hell-and-gone during the shootiDg.

    **Cut 'em out as they cross!'' he spat out and his face twisted in anger. ''And if you see that runty, scar-faced cow thief, tell him to dig himself a big hole and bury himself afore I find him/'
    Chewing on the butt of his cigar, Slaughter watched Chisum start to turn the horse toward his approaching herd.
    "Stay here, Mr. Chisum," he said. "Just to keep things friendly."
    Again he ordered instead of asking and again Chis-um obeyed. Whether he planned trying anything in an attempt to break the deadlock is a matter of conjecture. One thing was for sure. John Slaughter had no intention of giving the Cattle Bang a chance to get among his men and make any trouble.
    While watching the two wagons roll across, Slaughter gave a thought to the Cattle King's description of the man who had sold him the catde. There was only one small, scar-faced man in Blantyre County; or only one who Slaughter reckoned would have the gall to make such a play. Scar Taggert. He and his two brothers ran a cap-and-ball spread to the east of Slaughter's ranch. Already the Taggerts had had their warning to keep their hands off the J.S. stock and for slow