“Wal, Ben, I feel I ought to tell you there’s queer talk floatin’ around aboot you,” drawled Strobel, confidentially, and he proceeded to acquaint Ben with some unsavory gossip.

“Charlie, they’re the dirtiest kind of lies,” declared Ben, with sincere heat. “You’ve known me since I was a kid. Don’t you ask me to deny I’m a horse thief.”

“Wal, I reckon I never took much stock in it, far as you’re concerned,” went on Strobel. “But how aboot your pards? That Modoc had a bad name before he went to ridin’ fer you. An’ Less Setter swears Nevada is a thief an’ a gun–fighter of note in other parts.”

“I knew about Modoc,” replied Ben, earnestly. “But I know as little about Nevada before he came to this country as you do. Since they’ve been with me they’ve been straight, Charlie. They couldn’t do anything crooked without me finding out. What’s more, I intend to live this talk down.”

“Wal, Ben, I’m dog–gone glad to hear you say that,” responded the sheriff. “I always felt close to your father till he fell into a gold mine. It’s my idee he was hard on you. Now don’t go blowin’ aboot it, but you can count on Charlie Strobel.”

“You bet that makes me proud, Charlie,” responded Ben, feelingly.

“Wal, keep this under your hat. I’ve been jacked up considerable lately ’cause I can’t lay my hands on this thievin’ outfit back in the sage hills. An’ I’m het up aboot it. Your father an’ Hart Blaine both are on the Council. Reckon you know what that means. Now, Ben, come over to my office an’ I’ll swear you in as a deputy, secret of course. Then you keep your eye peeled out in the hills an’ if you run acrost any fellers you’re not sure of you can arrest them on the spot.”

“Thanks for your trust, Charlie, but I can’t bind myself. I’ll keep my eye peeled, though, and post you in no time.”

“Good. I’ll take it as a favor, Ben.”

“Wait a minute, Charlie,” added Ben, as the sheriff shook hands with him. “Tell me, who is this Less Setter?”

“Wal, come to think of it, darn if I know,” rejoined Strobel, musingly. “He hails from east of the range somewhere. Talks big. Spends lots of money. Makin’ deals all the time—cattle, hosses, land. Particular friend of Hart Blaine’s now.”

“Sounds like a whole lot,” returned Ben, thoughtfully in turn. “All the same, Charlie, I’m giving you a hunch. Watch this Less Setter. Dig quietly into his deals. It can’t do any harm and it may surprise you.”

“Ben, you’ve got your nerve,” said Strobel, his narrow eyes like slits over blue fire. “But I’m a son–of–a–gun if you haven’t hit me plumb center.”

They parted at the door, Strobel plodding thoughtfully down the road, and Ben, wrapped in a profound study, starting to cross to where he had tied his horse. As he approached the hitching rail he saw a buckboard and a spirited team in front of the store. He heard the gay voices of young people. Untying his horse, he was about to step into the saddle when he remembered he wanted matches. So, leading the gray, he walked toward the steps.