'An' me not havin' seen the fella afore,' the unknown reproved gently. 'He got his gun out too, an' he shore meant business.'
'An even break--the old excuse of the professional killer,' she sneered. 'That is what you are, I suppose, and all you cared about was adding another notch to your gun. Why, you laughed when you fired ! '
With a sudden movement the man lifted the handles of his guns so that she could see them, but he spoke to the dog squatting contentedly at his feet, 'Shore, I like to see 'em kick,' he grinned. 'Reckon I'll have to get some nicks put on these guns though; that's a bet we've overlooked, pup.'
The girl glared at him with stormy eyes. 'You're utterly contemptible,' she said, and stalked into the store.
The man replaced his hat and pulled the dog's ears. 'We ain't a mite popular, old fella,' he told it. ' `Less than the dust' don't begin to describe us with her, but she shore rests the eyes, an' I reckon when she smiles--'
His speculanions were cut short by the sudden advent of four riders, who pulled their mounts to a sliding stop in front of the saloon. The leader, a big, black-haired man, with a hooked nose, was obviously in no amiable mood.
'Yu the fella that shot up one o' my men?' he blurted out.
The stranger straightened up and looked at him.
'Speakin' to me?' he asked, and then, 'I put a bullet into a two-legged skunk just now, but if he's one o' yore outfit I reckon yo're a mighty poor picker o' men.'
The big man ignored the slur on his judgment. 'What dam right yu got to interfere between a man an' his dawg?' he asked.
'I got a right--an' a left,' grinned the stranger, his fingers sweeping the butts of his guns.
'Huh! One o' them funny jiggers, eh?' sneered the other. 'What's yore business hereabouts?'
'My business,' retorted the stranger emphatically. 'You the sheriff--or somethin'?'
The slow drawl and the tone in which the words were uttered rendered them plainly insulting, and the big man's jaw clenched. 'I ain't the sheriff,' he said, 'but--'
'Yu own him,' interrupted the mocking voice. 'Well, that's just as good, ain't it?' And then, in a different tone: 'If that fella behind yu don't keep his hands still yu'll likely be shy another man.'
'Stay out o' this, Penton, I'm runnin' it,' the leader said, andto the man on the sidewalk : 'I asked what yore business here is. Yu better not try my patience too much.'
The unknown laughed. 'Try yore patience!' he echoed. 'Well, yu got yore nerve--we'll try that.' His hands flashed to his sides, and in an instant both his guns were covering them. 'Now,' he rasped out, 'I can put the four o' yu on yore backs in as many seconds. Roll yore tails, every dam one o' yu--I'm short on patience my own self.'
The whole aspect of the man had changed. The lounging, nonchalant figure was now tense, the narrowed eyes grim and alert, and though there was a smile on the lips it was no more suggestive of mirth than the bared teeth of a savage animal. There was no mistaking the reality of the threat. Unterly taken by surprise, the four men had no option, and with one accord they turned their horses' heads up the street. Their leader, the last to go, had a final word.
'Yu got the drop--this time,' he scowled. 'But there'll be others.'
'I'm hopin' that,' retorted the unknown.
Watched by the wondering population, the discomfited riders paced slowly back to the 'Come Again' saloon, and when they vanished behind its doors the stranger turned to find Bent regarding him with a look in which amazement and consternation were oddly mixed.
'What's the trouble, old-timer?' he inquired.
'Trouble?' repeated the saloon-keeper. 'My ghost, yu shore have bought into a packet of it yoreself. Yu know who that was?' And when the visitor shook his head. 'That was Black Bart; most o' the folks in this burg sit up an' beg when he talks.'
'Is that so?' returned the stranger easily. 'Well, it musta been quite a change for him to find one that didn't.' And then, with a quick grin, he added : 'Though I gotta admit he didn't look none pleased.'
'It ain't no laughin' matter,' reproved Bent. 'He's got all the power round here, an' if he comes back with his outfit they'll just naturally shoot yu to bits.'
'Then T hope the town's got a nice roomy graveyard an' a hospital, for both '11 be wanted,' returned the other grimly.
'That's all right--no doubt yu'd git some of 'em, but what's the use? One man can't win agin twenty, an' though I ain't lovin' Bart any, I don't want my joint shot up--though, if it comes to it, yo're right welcome.'
The stranger's eyes lit up. 'Yu are shore white, seh, an' yu've called the turn,' he said. 'I'll be on my way--for now.'
Going to the corral he saddled his horse and brought it round to the front of the saloon. There was no haste in his movements,for he knew that he was being watched, and had no desire to give the impression that he was running away. But the discomfited quartette made no further dernonstration, and after a leisurely drink with the proprietor the unknown came out of the saloon, mounted and jogged slowly out of town on the trail to the east.
Quirt--for so he had named the dog--scampered ahead, chasing imaginary rabbits, and returning at short intervals to salute his new master with joyful yelps.
'Yo're a grateful cuss, ain't yu?' the rider apostrophised, after one of these ebullitions. 'But don't yu be cheerful too soon; yu ain't nearly paid for yet, or I miss my guess.'
The saloon-keeper watched him depart, and returned to his empty bar in a reflective mood.
'Gentlemen, hush,' he muttered. 'I'm tellin' myself the news : a man has come to town.'
Chapter II
PHILIP MASTERS, owner of the Lazy M, was sitting on the broad veranda of the ranch-house, chewing the butt of a black cigar and moodily watching the trail, which like a narrow white ribbon, wound down the slope and across the open range in the direction of Hope Again, some twenty miles distant. A short, sturdy man of fifty, with greying hair and a clean-shaven face, on which the mark of mental stress was plainly set, he was somewhat of a problem to those who knew him. Though at times he could be jovial and carefree, he had, during the last few years, become a prey to spells of black depression utterly out of keeping with his apparent prosperity. For Masters' was reckoned the best ranch in the county, and unlike most of the big cattlemen, he actually owned many square miles of the land his herds ranged over.
Presently the ranchman's trained eye caught sight of a dot far away on the trail, and his face cleared a little. Fifteen minutes passed and the dot resolved itself into a rider, with a smaller dot running ahead.
'Must be him, but what's he doin'--chasin' a coyote?' muttered the watching man.
At the foot of the rise to the ranch-house the trail twisted and the rider was lost to view behind the ranch buildings, consisting of a roomy bunkhouse, blacksmith's shop, a big barn and severalcorrals. Impatiently the ranch-owner rose and paced up and down the veranda. He had not long to wait; soon the rider appeared, raised his hand in salutation, and, halting the horse a score of yards away, dismounted and trailed the reins.
'Lo, Severn, glad to see yu,' greeted the cattleman. 'Come inside out o' this blame' sun.'
The room they entered was, for the time and place, a luxurious one. There was a carpet on the floor, the heavy oak furniture was solid and comfortable, and the visitor noted with some surprise, a piano. All of these articles must have been brought by wagon from the nearest railway point, forty miles away. The pelt of a grizzly bear lay in front of the open fireplace, and the walls were adorned with numerous hunting and Indian trophies. The host set out a bottle and glasses and pushed over a box of cigars. The guest helped himself, and waited.
'Somebody got Stevens, my foreman, two weeks ago,' Masters began abruptly. 'His hoss drifted in an' I sent the boys out searchin'. They found him in a gully up towards the Pinnacles; he'd been bush-whacked--shot from behind. A steady, quiet fella, hadn't no enemies that ever I heard of, but--he was loyal to me. The man who takes his place runs the same risk. Yu get that?'
'Shorely,' replied Severn unconcernedly.
'For years now a man has had me where the hair's short,' the cattleman went on. 'I've handed over money till I can raise no more, an' now he's takin' cattle; next it'll be the ranch, which is what he's afner. I got a scheme to beat him, but I can't put it in operation without a good man to take charge here. It's a gamble an' I may lose out,
