Robb got to mulling the incident over in his mind, and decided that when his attention was directed outside the car window, there had been some juggling of the cards.

"My friend," he said, and there was that tense thrill and the quiet that always followed certain tones of expression in the west, "My friend, I guess I will have to trouble you to hand me back that money. I am too old a stager for that kind of work," and his sixshooter was there ready to help argue the matter.

"Oh !" said the stranger, "alright, alright." He passed the money over, and the game went on.

The stranger was known to some of those present, and to Robb afterwards. He was Doc. Middleton. Rob had held up the great western desperado, and the event was often thereafter related as one of the anecdotes of western adventure. Robb never boasted of it, he was not a boaster, and then Doc. might have considered it bad taste. He had sensitive notions on such matters, and a very delicate trigger finger.

When driven to it, Doc. Middleton became an outlaw that made his a name that ranks high in importance. He knew the location of more good horses than any man on the western ranee, and he could take them from the South Platte to Cheyenne river in less time than any other. The organization of the cattlemen's association of Wyoming and western Nebraska, was brought into active use in bringing him to justice. This was co-operated in by the United States Government.