“Logan?”

“No.  His name is Bard.”

“H-m!  Any relation of the old bird that was partners with you back about the year one?”

“I want Anthony Bard brought here,” said.  Drew, entirely overlooking the question.

“Easy.  I can make the trip in a buckboard and I’ll dump him in the back of it.”

“No.  He’s got to ride here, understand?”

“A dead man,” said Nash calmly, “ain’t much good on a hoss.”

“Listen to me,” said Drew, his voice lowering to a sort of musical thunder, “if you harm a hair of this lad’s head I’ll-I’ll break you in two with my own hands.”

And he made a significant gesture as if he were snapping a twig between his fingers.  Nash moistened his lips, then his square, powerful jaw jutted out.

“Which the general idea is me doing baby talk and sort of hypnotizing this Bard feller into coming along?”

“More than that.  He’s got to be brought here alive, untouched, and placed in that chair tied so that he can’t move hand or foot for ten minutes while I talk.”

“Nice, quiet day you got planned for me, Mr. Drew.”

The grey man considered thoughtfully.

“Now and then you’ve told me of a girl at Eldara—­I think her name is Sally Fortune?”

“Right.  She begins where the rest of the calico leaves off.”

“H-m! that sounds familiar, somehow.  Well, Steve, you’ve said that if you had a good start you think the girl would marry you.”

“I think she might.”

“She pretty fond of you?”

“She knows that if I can’t have her I’m fast enough to keep everyone else away.”

“I see.  A process of elimination with you as the eliminator.  Rather an odd courtship, Steve?”

The cowpuncher grew deadly serious.

“You see, I love her.  There ain’t no way of bucking out of that.  So do nine out of ten of all the boys that’ve seen her.  Which one will she pick?  That’s the question we all keep askin’, because of all the contrary, freckle-faced devils with the heart of a man an’ the smile of a woman, Sally has ’em all beat from the drop of the barrier.  One feller has money; another has looks; another has a funny line of talk.  But I’ve got the fastest gun.  So Sally sees she’s due for a complete outfit of black mournin’ if she marries another man while I’m alive; an’ that keeps her thinkin’.  But if I had the price of a start in the world—­why, maybe she’d take a long look at me.”

“Would she call one thousand dollars in cash a start in the world—­and your job as foreman of my place, with twice the salary you have now?”

Steve Nash wiped his forehead.

He said huskily:  “A joke along this line don’t bring no laugh from me, governor.”

“I mean it, Steve.  Get Anthony Bard tied hand and foot into this house so that I can talk to him safely for ten minutes, and you’ll have everything I promise.  Perhaps more.  But that depends.”