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 who 've busted up their range with fence lines—scare 'em out of the country by killings. Your pappy, ole Hard Winter Peters, Jay North—all lyin' with a stone on their heads so 's the Killer can collect for his tally from the big augers down to Cheyenne.

"When they savvy murders an' killing in the dark won't work, what 's the next step? Just as sure as prairie dogs have chin whiskers, girl, the powerfulest men in the Stockmen's Alliance 'll play their last card. They 'll hire a gang of bad men and quick shots to come into this country an' clean up—just like those Montana Vigilantes did a few years ago. Then it 's goin' to be knock-down-an'-drag-out, an' hell's cinders flyin' every which way."

"Sooner that comes the better," the girl gritted, her mouth pulled down in a hard bow of hate. Zang, who gloried in his new-found power finally to play upon the emotions of this baffling creature of cold beauty, permitted a new note to creep into his voice, one of tender solicitude:

"What are you aimin' to do, girl? How 're you goin' to tackle life when all these things I 've been specifyin' are buildin' right up in front of you?" Hilma's eyes instantly became