"Stranger, you're a little the swiftest man I've met since harvest; would you mind telling me your name ?" "Not a bit.

My friends call me Mose Harding." "'Black Mose'!" exclaimed the marshal, and a mutter of low words and a laugh broke from the listening crowd.

Haney reached out his hand.

"I hope you won't lay it up against me." Mose shook his hand and the marshal went on: "To tell the honest truth, I thought you were one of Lightfoot's gang.

I couldn't place you.