"Hell!" he said; "bit by a rattler!" He laughed insolently, pulling his pony's head around.

"I reckon I'll be goin'," he said.

"You'll nurse him so's he won't die ?" He had struck the pony's flanks with the spurs and was gone into the shadows before either man on the porch could move.

There was a short silence, while the two men listened to the beat of his pony's hoofs.

Then Ferguson turned and spoke to the young man.
"You know him ?" he questioned.
The young man smiled coldly.