belt's been fit for an' won. If it has I'll scrunch th' man that has it."
"You're in time," snapped Prevost. "That's more'n I can say of your condition."
He then counted the men and found the tally satisfactory. The question of physical superiority was usually settled and the red belt awarded at the start of the trip. This absorbed the fighting spirit of the men and allowed them to stick to their work without bickerings. With Prevost these annual battles meant more efficiency during the long trip to the mountains and back, a sort of clearing-house for distemper and private feuds. Glancing over the company he said:
"As it seems to lay between Long Simons and Porker you other boys can git ready and find out who's the two best among you. Hurry it along. Any feller showing the white feather will be booted into the river. All belts and weapons back there by my tent. No biting or eye-digging. No bone-breaking after a man's beat."
Lander had heard of these contests but had never been brought face to face with the facts. His eyes opened widely as two men clinched the minute Prevost ceased speaking and rolled over the grass fighting like tiger cats. Obviously
