unfriendliness that he had seen in Winch's face a little while before, nor the ignored greeting that he had given him. He was in no mood now to risk another rebuff, so he held his peace and waited for Winch to unfreight his mind.
"That's a kind of a thin story you've come in with, young feller," said Winch. He had stopped off a few feet from where Texas sat, and stood looking at him, a little twitching in his mustache as if he were about to smile. But there was no smile in his eyes, small and gray, smaller now for the frown on his sharp, thin face.
Texas drew deep on his cigarette, tossed the butt into the fire, got up deliberately, turned and looked Winch straight in the eyes.
"Yes, I admit it is a purty thin kind of a story to come into a crowd of suspicious men with, especially men that have judged before they have heard any evidence at all."
"What do you call that if it ain't evidence?"
Winch pointed to the distant herd grazing on the forbidden grass.
"It does look bad for a stranger from Taixas, I'll admit, Winch."
"I didn't take you for a man that would double-cross a friend that had done you a favor, Hartwell."
"No, you didn't, Winch. And you measured me
