He did not need to turn to face the rider, for, singularly enough, he had not done anything else.

"How'd thet strike you, stranger?"

"Pretty neat. It amused me," replied the rider.

"Is thet all?"

"I guess so. The stingy old skinflint deserved to be touched.

Wasn't that a slick way to beat the boy here out of six bits?"

"It shore was. An' thet's what r'iled me. Reckon, though, if he hadn't flashed the wallet I'd been a little more circumspect."

"Is there a sheriff at Green River?"

"I never seen him, if there is. Wal, I'll be ridin' along. Air you comin' with me, stranger?"

"Might as well," returned the other. "But if you don't mind, I'll walk."

"It's only a little way. Good lodgin's, though I never do nothin' but eat an' drink in town."

"That'll suit me for more than one reason."

"Stranger, what'd you say your name was?"

"I didn't say."

"Ex-cuse me. I'm not curious. But it's more agreeable, you know, when a feller has a handle."

"Call me Wall--Jim Wall," rejoined the rider, presently.

"Wall?--Wal, thet's enough fer me. Kinda hard to get over. Haw!

Haw!"

They went up the slow-ascending, sandy lane between the cottonwoods toward the town, while the ferry-boy watched.

Hays' nonchalance reassured Wall as to the status of Green River.

They came, at length, into a wide space, which was more of a square than a street, upon the far side of which stood several low, wide buildings, some of which sought the dignity of height with false wooden fronts rising above their single story. The hitching rails and posts were vacant. There was not a vehicle in sight, and only a few men, lounging in doorways. Above and beyond this town of Green River stood the great cliff wall, not close, by any means, and now red in the sunset flare, except for the mantle of snow on the top.

"Any dance-hall in this burg?" asked Wall.

"Nary dance-hall, worse luck. Any weakness for such?"

"Can't say it's a weakness, but the last two I bumped into make me want to steer clear of more."

"Women?" queried the robber, with a leer.

"It wasn't any fault of mine."

"Haw! Haw! Reckon you might take the eye of women, at thet. Wal, you're out of luck here, 'cause the only women in Green River air old hags an' a couple of young wives thet you can't git within a mile of."

"Not out of luck for me. But you talk as if you regretted it."

"Wal, women ruined me," returned Hays, sententiously.

"You don't look it."

"Men never look what they air."

"Don't agree with you, Hays. I can always tell what men are by their looks."

"How'd you figure me?" demanded Hays, a little more gruffly than humorously.

"I don't want to flatter you on such short acquaintance."

"Humph!--Wal, here we air," replied the robber, halting before a red stone building.

"What do you suppose became of the fat fellow you relieved of cash?" inquired Wall, who kept this personage in mind.

"I reckon he's gone on his way to Moab," replied Hays. "Thet's a Mormon settlement down on the Green. An' there's a Mormon ranch out here a ways. We won't run into thet geezer here, I'll gamble."

"Quiet town," murmured Wall, as if talking to himself.

A red-bewhiskered man appeared in the doorway that led into a saloon and lodging-house. A rude sign in letters, faded and indistinct, attested to this.

"Howdy, Red!"

"Howdy, Hank!"

"See anythin' of a fat party, sort of puffy in the face? He was ridin' a roan an' leadin' two packs."

"Oh, him? Sure. He rode through town yellin' he'd been robbed," returned the man called Red, grinning.

"Hell he did? Who was he, Red?"

"I dunno. Mormon, most likely. Leastways thet's what Happy said.

He was standin' out here, an' when the feller stopped bellerin' thet he wanted the sheriff 'cause he'd been robbed, why, Happy up an' says, 'Hey, my Latter Day friend, did he leave anythin' on you?' Then the feller up an' rode off to beat hell."

It was this pregnant speech of Red's that decided several things for Jim Wall.

"I want to look after my horse," was all he said.

"Take him round back to the barn. If Jake ain't there, you can find water, feed, an' beddin' yourself."

Hays dismounted laboriously, indicating that he had ridden far that day.

"Wal, I'm dog-tired. Send thet lazy Jake after my hoss."

This edifice was the last one on the street. Wall made note of the grove of cottonwoods just down the slope a few hundred yards.