He sent the big bay forward at a steady, even pace, and in an hour he had crossed the sweep of upland and was riding a narrow trail that veered gradually from the trail to Willets.  The character of the land had changed, and Lawler was now riding over a great level, thickly dotted with bunch grass, with stretches of bars, hard sand, clumps of cactus and greasewood.

He held to the narrow trail.  It took him through a section of dead, crumbling lava and rotting rock; through a little stretch of timber, and finally along the bank of a shallow river—­the Wolf—­which ran after doubling many times, through the Circle L valley.

In time he reached a little grass level that lay close to the river.  A small cabin squatted near the center of the clearing, surrounded by several outbuildings in a semi-dilapidated condition, and a corral, in which there were several horses.

Lawler sent Red King straight toward the cabin.  When he reached the cabin he swung off and walked toward the door, his lips set in straight lines, his manner decisive.

He had taken only several steps when a voice greeted him, coming from the interior of the cabin—­a man’s voice, snarling, venomous: 

“You come another step, Kane Lawler, an’ I’ll bore you!”

Lawler halted, facing the door.  The door was closed, but a little slide in the upper part of it was open.  Through the aperture projected the muzzle of a rifle, and behind the rifle appeared a man’s face—­dark, bearded, with eyes that gleamed with ferocious malignancy.

CHAPTER II

DRIVING A BARGAIN

Lawler stiffened.  There was no mistaking the deadly threat of the rifle and the man’s menacing manner.  Lawler’s face was pale, but his eyes were unwavering as they looked into those that glared out at him through the aperture in the door.

Guilt and fear were the emotions that had driven Hamlin to this rather hysterical threat.  Lawler resisted an impulse to laugh, though he felt a pulse of grim humor shoot through him.

To his knowledge—­excepting Hamlin’s predilection to rustle cattle—­the man was harmless.  He never had been known to draw a gun, even in self-defense, and Lawler was convinced that there was not sufficient provocation for him to break one of the rules that had governed him until now.  Hamlin might be goaded, or frightened, into using the rifle, but Lawler had no intention of goading or frightening him.  In fact, being aware of the reason for Hamlin’s belligerence, he had no intention of acquainting the man with the knowledge of what had happened the night before.  At least, not at this instant.

Lawler’s lips wore a shadowy smile.

“I reckon you don’t know me, Hamlin?” he said.

“I know you mighty well, Lawler,” snapped Hamlin; “you heard me mention your name!”

“Then you’ve got a new way of greeting your friends, eh—­with a rifle.  Well, put it down and open the door.  There’s some things I want to say to you.”