For months he had smothered hot hatred and he was now on his way to ease himself of it.
He and Slim Travennes had once exchanged shots with Hopalong in Santa Fe, and the month which he had spent in bed was not pleasing, and from that encounter had sprung the hatred.

That he had been in the wrong made no difference with him.

Some months later he had learned of the death of Slim, and it was due to the same man.

That Slim had again been in the wrong also made no difference, for he realized the fact and nothing else.
Lately he had been told of the death of Slippery Trendley and Deacon Rankin, and he accepted their passing as a personal affront.

That they had been caught red-handed in cattle stealing of huge proportions and received only what was customary under the conditions formed no excuse in his mind for their passing.