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Jordan leaned over and dropped a gentle hand on the cowboy’s shoulder.

“My friend,” he murmured, “those words are not from your heart. I know you too well. You’re not the sort of fellow to skulk in the brush like a rattlesnake and strike at the man who comes along. Why, Nate, even a rattlesnake gives warning. No, no. Face this manfully, and in the open. Such injustice cannot thrive. Take my word for it, it will not succeed.”

“Amigo,” answered Dunbar. “I think a heap of you; we all do, at this ranch. But hasn’t injustice thrived here for months? What’s happened to Perry’s cattle? Might has made right for a long time. I’m getting tired waiting for a change.”

“It is a long lane that has no turning, Nate,” said the sky pilot with an encouraging smile, “and I have a feeling that this lane is close to that point. Providence has been kind to you and to the Perrys. Can’t you see the hand of Providence in what happened at Red Steve’s? Buffalo Bill was brought to your rescue, even as Wild Bill and old Nomad discovered things in Hackamore that brought them to the aid of Perry and Hattie. These,” the sky pilot indicated the scout and his pards with a gesture, “are stanch friends—men renowned for their deeds—against whom the cattle barons cannot prevail. Trust the future, man! Give Buffalo Bill and his friends your full confidence, and then abide by the result.”