A slow, tantalizing smile came to Wallie's face. Very distinctly he called back:

"How much damages will you give me for driving your cattle into my wheat?"

"Not a d.a.m.n cent!"

The rope Wallie had been swinging about his head to test the loop promptly dropped.

The horse was swimming lower at every stroke.

"Five hundred!" Fear and rage were in Canby's choking voice.

"Put another cipher on that to cover my mental anguish!" Wallie mocked.

The horse was exhausting itself rapidly with its efforts merely to keep its nose out, making no further attempt to swim toward the bank. Canby slapped water in its face in the hope of turning it, but it was too late. Its breathing could be heard plainly and its distended nostrils were blood-red.

Many things pa.s.sed swiftly through Canby's calculating mind in the few seconds that remained for him to decide.

His boots had filled and he was soaked to the waist; he knew that if he left the horse and swam for it he had small chance of success. He was not a strong swimmer at best, and even if he managed to get to the bank its sides were too high and steep for him to climb out without a.s.sistance. He looked at Wallie's implacable face, but he saw no weakening there, it was a matter of a moment more when the horse would go under and come up feet first.

"Throw me the rope!" His voice vibrating with chagrin and rage admitted his defeat.

Wallie measured the distance with his eye, adjusted the loop, and as it cut the air above his head Canby held up his hands to catch it when it dropped.

"Good work!" Pinkey cried as it shot out and hit its mark. "You never made a better throw than that, old kid!"

Canby slipped the loop under his arm and, as he took his feet from the stirrups, shouted for them to tighten up.

The horse, relieved of his weight, took heart and struck out for the opposite bank, where a little dirt slide enabled it to scramble out.

Shaking and dripping, at last it stood still at the top, while Canby, a dead weight, was dragged over the edge to dry land.

There was as much fury as relief in his face when he stood up and started to loosen the rope around his chest.

Wallie stopped him with a gesture.

"No, you don't! I take no chances when I play with crooks. You make out that check."

"Isn't my word good?" Canby demanded.

"Not so far as I can throw my horse."

"I haven't a check-book," he lied.

"Get it, Pink."

The check-book and indelible pencil which every sheep and cattleman carries were in the inside pocket of his coat.

"Fill it out." Wallie pa.s.sed the pencil to him. "And don't leave off a cipher by mistake."

"I refuse to be coerced!" Canby declared, defiantly. "I'll keep my word, but I didn't say when."

"_I'm_ setting the date," Wallie replied, coolly, "and that's just four minutes and a half from _now_," taking out his watch. "If I haven't got the check by then you'll pay for those locoed horses, too, or I'll throw you back."

"You don't dare!"

"When you haven't anything to lose you'll do considerable to get 'hunks'

and that's my fix. Besides, I need the money. Two minutes left--think fast."

"You'll sweat blood for this before I'm through with you!"

"Time's up--yes or no?"

Canby gritted his teeth.

Silently Wallie pa.s.sed the end of the rope to Pinkey, who understood and took a turn around his saddle-horn.

Before he could resist Wallie gave Canby a shove and pushed him over the bank. He struck the water with a splash and went out of sight.

Immediately the well-trained cow-horse felt the strain it backed up and held the rope taut.

Canby came to the surface, then dangled as the horse continued to hold off. As he strangled with the water he had taken in his lungs and struggled frantically in the air, it seemed beyond human belief that it was he, Canby--Canby the all-powerful--in such a plight!

"Pay out a little rope, Pinkey. Give the fish more line."

Once again Canby dropped back and came up gasping, coughing, fighting for his breath.

A little anxiously Pinkey asked:

"Don't you bleeve he's had enough?"

"Too much sc.r.a.p left in him yet," Wallie replied, unmoved.

Canby shrieked at last: "I'll pay! Let me up!"

"You mean that?"

"Good G.o.d--YES!"

Pinkey led the horse back and in no gentle fashion Canby was pulled over the edge for the second time, where he lay limp. When his breath and strength returned he struggled to his feet.

"If you go in again you won't come up." Wallie's voice was metallic and, searching his face, Canby saw that he meant exactly what he said.

His hand was shaking as he filled out the check, using the saddle for a desk.

Wallie looked at it and handed it back.

"You forgot the horses--six hundred is what they cost."

Canby started to protest, then, with a crafty look which, fleeting as it was, Wallie caught, he made out a new check for fifty-six hundred.