“Where’s that young rascal Marvin?” he demanded, irately.

“I think he fled to mother for protection,” replied Ina, demurely.

“Ahuh! Wal, that won’t save him. I’ll lick him good.”

“What for, Dad?” asked Ina, sharing the smiles of the men.

“He rode by hyar yellin’ like an Injun, an’ wouldn’t stop for me,” replied her father.

“What was he yelling?” inquired Ina.

“Reckon somethin’ about Setter. I didn’t ketch it. Never seen the lad like that before. He’s growin’ up an’ gettin’ wild. I’ll have to use a halter on him.”

“Dad, wait till you see what has happened. Marvie was terribly excited. I think there has been a fight at Forlorn River.”

“Fight? … Wal, wal!” he ejaculated, and his rugged face changed. “I told Setter to be careful.”

One of the men pointed down the road toward the group entering the ranch gate.

“Boss, looks like Bill Sneed was holdin’ Setter on his hoss.”

Blaine, muttering under his breath, started to stride across the open to intercept the horsemen, who were heading toward the second cabin. Ina’s keen eye caught Setter’s impatient gesture, clearly significant of the fact that he preferred not to be met just then. But Blaine strode on, with his men close behind. Ina did not intend to miss anything and she followed. The result was that Setter and the three cowboys with him were intercepted in front of the cabin.

“What’n hell happened to you?” shouted Blaine, astounded, as he strode forward.

Setter wore no coat. His white shirt was torn half off, soaking wet with sweat, discolored by blood and dust. Ina would not have recognized him. His face was a spectacle to behold. A great black puffy lump hid one of his eyes. The other glared with sullen fury. His mouth was swollen and bleeding.

Raising a dirty shaking hand, Setter began to speak huskily: “Ide an’ his cronies beat me.”

“Wha–at?” demanded Blaine, hotly, and his grizzled mane bristled.

“They took my gun an’ set on me,” said Setter as he painfully dismounted. Evidently he was pretty severely crippled.

“Them damn hoss–wranglers! Wal, by heavens! we can’t overlook this!” ejaculated Blaine, divided between rage and amaze. “Looks like a job for Strobel…. But, say, did my cowboys stand around to see you beat by three men?”

One of the cowboys started up as if he had been struck. Ina recognized the clean–cut, red–faced Bill Sneed, who was Marvie’s particular chum. This young man flung out a gauntleted hand in fiery gesture of repudiation. His blue eyes flashed fire. The look of him sent Ina’s blood racing.

“Aw, Setter, tell it straight,” he said, stingingly.

“You shut up or I’ll fire you,” shouted Setter.

“Fire, hell!” retorted Sneed, with passionate disgust. “You couldn’t fire me. I quit. An’ I’m goin’ to tell this straight.”

“So you’re in with Ben Ide, hey? Well, I’ll tend to all of you later,” rasped Setter, shaking from weakness and fury. His bloody face expressed a hideous malignancy. Then he surged away to enter his cabin and bang the door.