"That's another lie," yelled the enraged Lamson, and the ranchers laughed at the unconscious admission.
"Is it?" said Kitsap quietly. "Do you dare to bet on it?"
"I'll bet you a hundred dollars," roared the rancher, "that you can't get over fourteen cents for hops in this valley this fall."
"I will bet you that amount that I can get at least sixteen cents for the Indians on the reservation."
"Where's your money?" said Lamson, drawing out a roll of bills.
Kitsap had not looked for this. He was puzzled for a moment. Then he drew forth a pocket check-book, signed a check, and handed it to an Indian rancher, who endorsed it. Turning to Lamson, Kitsap said:
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