he had fought a man who was something less than a man.  It was bitter to feel that he had been condemned without a hearing.  He had not dreamed that the Old Man would be capable of such an action, even with the latest and least-valued comer; he felt the sting of it, the injustice and the ingratitude for all the years he had given the Double-Crank.  It seemed to him that he could never feel quite the same toward another outfit, or be content riding horses which bore some other brand.

“I suppose you are quite familiar with raising cattle under these Western conditions,” Alexander P. Dill ventured, after a season of mutual meditation.

“Kinda,” Billy confirmed briefly.

“There seems to be a certain class-prejudice against strangers, out here.  I can’t understand it and I can’t seem to get away from it.  I believe those men deliberately misinformed me, for the sole reason that I am unfortunately a stranger and unfamiliar with the country.  They do not seem to realize that this country must eventually be more fully developed, and that, in the very nature of things, strangers are sure to come and take advantage of the natural resources and aid materially in their development.  I don’t consider myself an interloper; I came here with the intention of making this my future home, and of putting every dollar of capital that I possess into this country; I wish I had more.  I like the country; it isn’t as if I came here to take something away.  I came to add my mite; to help build up, not to tear down.  And I can’t understand the attitude of men who would maliciously—­”

“It’s kinda got to be part uh the scenery to josh a pilgrim,” Billy took the trouble to explain.  “We don’t mean any harm.  I reckon you’ll get along all right, once yuh get wised up.”

“Do you expect to be in town for any length of time?” Mr. Dill’s voice was wistful, as well as his eyes.  “Somehow, you don’t seem to adopt that semi-hostile attitude, and I—­I’m very glad for the opportunity of knowing you.”

Charming Billy made a rapid mental calculation of his present financial resources and of past experience in the rate of depletion.

“Well.  I may last a week or so, and I might pull out to-morrow,” he decided candidly.  “It all depends on the kinda luck I have.”

Mr. Dill looked at him inquiringly, but he made no remark that would betray curiosity.  “I have rented a room in a little house in the quietest part of town.  The hotel isn’t very clean and there is too much noise and drinking going on at night.  I couldn’t sleep there.  I should be glad to have you share my room with me while you stay in town, if you will.  It is clean and quiet.”