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 what I've got on that gang. We've both suffered by what they've handed us, but it's our day to talk now. Sit down—I'll tell you something."

When they started back to the hotel, Texas could read in the Big Dipper that it was close to two o'clock. But his weariness had gone from him, his troubles had dissolved. He felt like a man who had been armed to meet an enemy before whom he had stood bare-handed and hopeless a little while before.

Only a few hours since he had walked through the streets of Cottonwood in the distrust and contempt of the earth's mean cowards, such as Ollie Noggle, and the accusation of others, a load so heavy that it almost broke his heart. The back door of that town had stood open to him, and fingers were pointing him out that way between the dusk and dawn.

But it was different now. Confidence was in his heart, power in his hand. There would be a smoke in that town before long, and the crooks would be running ahead of it, like chinch bugs out of a blazing stubble field.

Even Mrs. Goodloe had gone to bed when they reached the hotel, and there was nobody to place Fannie. But Texas knew that half the rooms were empty, and one had but to go roaming along the hall until he found an open door. That was the