The Spider’s system of bookkeeping was simple, requiring neither pen nor paper, journal nor day-book.  He kept a kind of mental loose-leaf ledger with considerable accuracy, auditing his accounts with impartiality.  For example, Scar-Face and three companions just up from the border recently had been credited with twenty head of Mexican cattle which were now grazing on The Spider’s border ranch, the Olla.  Scar-Face had attempted to sell the cattle to the leader of a Mexican faction whose only assets at the time were ammunition and hope.  Scar-Face had met this chieftain by appointment at an abandoned ranch-house.  Argument ensued.  The Mexican talked grandiloquently of “Liberty, Fraternity, and Equality.”  Scar-Face held out for cash.  The Mexican leader needed beef.  Scar-Face needed money.  As he had rather carelessly informed the Mexican that he could deliver the cattle immediately, and realizing his mistake,—­for he knew that the Mexican would straightway summon his retainers and take the cattle in the name of “Liberty, Fraternity, and Equality,”—­Scar-Face promptly shot this self-appointed savior of Mexico, mortally wounded one of his two companions, and finally persuaded the other to help drift the cattle north with a promise of a share of the profits of the enterprise.

The surviving Mexican rode to Showdown with Scar-Face and his companions, received his share of the sale in cash,—­which he squandered at The Spider’s place,—­and straightway rode back across the border to rejoin his captainless comrades and appoint himself their leader, gently insinuating that he himself had shot the captain whom he had apprehended in the treachery of betraying them to a rival aggregation of ragged Liberties, Fraternities, and Equalities.

The Spidery mental ledger read:  “Scar-Face—­Debit, chuck, liquor, and lodging”—­an account of long standing—­“and forty dollars in cash.  Credit—­twenty head of cattle, brand unknown.”

Scar-Face’s account was squared—­for the time being.

Pete was also on The Spider’s books, and according to The Spider’s system of accounts, Pete was heavily in debt to him.  Not that The Spider would have ever mentioned this, or have tried to collect.  But when he offered Pete a job on his ranch he shrewdly put Pete in the way of meeting his obligations.

Cattle were in demand, especially in Mexico, so ravaged by lawless soldiery that there was nothing left to steal.  One outlaw chieftain, however, was so well established financially that his agents were able to secure supplies from a mysterious source and pay for them with gold, which also came from an equally mysterious source—­and it was with these agents that The Spider had had his dealings.  His bank account in El Paso was rolling up fast.  Thus far he had been able to supply beef to the hungry liberators of Mexico; but beef on the hoof was becoming scarce on both sides of the border.  Even before Pete had come to Showdown, The Spider had perfected a plan to raid the herds of the northern ranches.  Occasional cowboys drifting to Showdown had given him considerable information regarding the physical characteristics of the country roundabout these ranches, the water-holes, trails, and grazing.