Lewis was a sandy-complexioned man of about forty, with colorless
brows and a mean, shifty eye. Formerly a cowboy, he had by the
exercise of some natural ability acquired a good property--and a
bad reputation. Just how or why he had prospered was a mystery
which his neighbors never tired of discussing.
Tad, it seemed, resented any interruption of his rest, and showed
the fact plainly.
Yes, he employed a fellow named Urbina. What was wanted of him?
Law explained briefly.
"Why, he's one of my best men!" laughed the rancher. "He wouldn't
steal nothing."
"Well, I had to shoot another good man of yours," Dave said,
quietly.
Lewis fell back a step. "Which one? Who?" he inquired, quickly.
"Pino Garza." Dave told of the meeting at the branding-fire and
its outcome. He was aware, meanwhile, that Lewis's family were
listening, for behind a half-open bedroom door he could hear an
excited whispering.
"Killed him the first shot, eh?" Tad was dumfounded. "Now I never
thought Pino was that bad. But you never can tell about these
Greasers, can you? They'll all steal if they get a chance. I let
Pino go, 'bout a week back; but he's been hangin' around, aimin'
to visit some of his relatives up in the brush country.
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