This man talked with Manuel, and money chinked between them.
"You might wrap up the goods before you deliver 'm," the stranger said gruffly, and Manuel doubled a piece of stout rope around Buck's neck under the collar.
"Twist it, an' you'll choke 'm plentee," said Manuel, and the stranger grunted a ready affirmative.
Buck had accepted the rope with quiet dignity.

To be sure, it was an unwonted performance: but he had learned to trust in men he knew, and to give them credit for a wisdom that outreached his own.

But when the ends of the rope were placed in the stranger's hands, he growled menacingly.
He had merely intimated his displeasure, in his pride believing that to intimate was to command.

But to his surprise the rope tightened around his neck, shutting off his breath.

In quick rage he sprang at the man, who met him halfway, grappled him close by the throat, and with a deft twist threw him over on his back.