valley, but I don't know as shooting him on sight is the answer."
Scott and Jimmy perched on the table, John and Judith on the foot of the bed. The others found chairs. Doug stared at Peter, at first with resentment, then with an air of curiosity.
"Don't you try any soft stuff, Peter!" protested John. "Scott's worn his welcome out in Lost Chief and that's all there is to it."
"My folks came here a year before yours did, John," retorted Scott. "I've got as good a right in this valley as anybody."
"Nobody that makes a nuisance of himself has got any rights in this valley," asserted Douglas. "I suppose you think because your grandfather killed Indians here you've got a right to shoot white men. Well, sir, I'm going to teach you different."
"Pot-shooting at him isn't going to teach him anything except perhaps what is over the Great Divide, Doug," said Peter dryly.
Scott laughed sardonically.
"The law has got something to say in this case," announced the sheriff, lighting a small black pipe.
"No, it hasn't," exclaimed Douglas; "not if I don't want it to."
"You aren't the whole of Lost Chief, Doug," said Charleton. "I've got a small grudge to settle with Scott, myself."
"And I've got several," added John.
"Enjoy yourself, folks," suggested Scott, winking openly at Judith over the cigarette he was lighting.
This infuriated John. "Jude, you clear out! Scott, you blank-blank—"
Douglas flung up a protesting hand. "O, cut that,
