Sanderson stepped forward and took the paper from Dale’s hand.  Then he abruptly strode toward the house, telling Dale to wait.

Sanderson halted in the middle of the sitting-room as Owen entered the room through, a rear door.  Barney Owen was grinning.

“Wants your signature, does he?” said Owen.  He whispered rapidly to Sanderson, and the latter’s face grew pale and grim as he listened.  When Owen had finished he grinned.

“Now we’ll give him Will Bransford’s signature—­just as he used to write it.  I’ve seen it more times than any other man ever saw it, and I can duplicate it to a flourish.  Give me the paper!”

He sat down at a table, where there was a pen and a bottle of ink and wrote boldly:  “Will Bransford.”  With a grin he passed the paper back.

Sanderson stared, then a smile wreathed his lips, for the signature was seemingly a duplicate of that which had been written at the bottom of the letter Will Bransford had written to his father.

On his way to return the paper to Dale, Sanderson paused to listen again to Owen, who whispered to him.  Sanderson stiffened, looked hard at Owen, and then grinned with straight lips.  In less than no time he was out of the house and confronting Dale.

He watched while the latter looked at the signature; he saw the expression of disappointment that swept over Dale’s face.  Then Sanderson spoke coldly: 

“Right and proper, eh, Dale?  Now I’ll trouble you for that letter that my dad dropped about a year ago—­the one you picked up.  It was a letter from me, an’ dad had let you read it.  Fork it over, or I’ll bore you an’ take it from your clothes!”

CHAPTER XI

THE ULTIMATUM

Dale’s face whitened; for a moment he sat rigid, staring, his eyes boring into Sanderson’s.  Then he reached into a pocket, drew out a dirty envelope, and threw it at Sanderson’s feet.

“You’re a damned smart boy, ain’t you, Bransford?” he sneered.  “But I’m out to get you—­remember that!”

“And you remember this, Dale!”

Sanderson was at the head of the horse Dale rode.  His eyes were blazing with suppressed fury, brought on by the other’s threat.  “There’s goin’ to be a new deal in the basin.  From now on I’m runnin’ things—­an’ they’re runnin’ square!  I ain’t got any use for any law but this!” He tapped the butt of his six-shooter significantly.  “An’ if you go to gettin’ mixed up with the Double A or the Nyland ranch you’ll get it—­plenty!”

Dale grinned, hideously.  Then he kicked his horse in the ribs and rode away.

Mary Bransford had not moved from her position on the porch.  Sanderson watched Dale ride away, then he smiled at Mary and entered the house.  Mary followed him.  She saw Owen standing in the sitting-room, and her face showed her surprise.

Sanderson explained.  “Owen an’ me framed up on Dale,” he said.  “You saw it work.”