glance, no one took any notice of him, but his own eyes were busy. Presently Pete drifted in, and when he caught sight of the deputy's badge, Adam looked at Raven, who was playing cards at a nearby table. The saloon-keeper shook his head slightly.
When Green eventually made his appearance, Adam got from Raven the sign he was waiting for, and his cold gaze watched the marshal incessantly. He noted the tall, limber frame, the easy play of the muscles when their owner moved, and the youthfulness. But the little smile which crinkled the corners of the firm mouth and softened the square jaw misled him.
'Kinda young for his job an' liable to take chances,' he reflected sneeringly. He turned to the bartender. 'Ever heard o' Split Adam?' he asked loudly.
'Yeah, but I never seen him,' Jude replied.
'Yu have now,' came the answer. 'Yessir, I'm that eedentical fella. Know how I got that label?'
The barkeep did not, and shook his head.
' 'Cause I c'n split a bullet on a knife edge at twelve paces,' boasted the killer, and with an aggressive look at Green. 'That's shootin', Mister Marshal.'
'Shore is,' the officer agreed mildly. 'But if the knife-edge was bustlin' bullets in yore direction at the time it might make a difference.'
'There's quite a few who found it didn't,' Adam sneered.
'I'll have to take yore word for that, seh,' the marshal replied. 'I reckon theirs ain't available.'
He turned away, ending the discussion, and the gunman's gaze followed him with malignant triumph. He did not want to clash yet; he was merely trying out his man. The marshal left the saloon early, and when Pete followed some time later he found him cleaning and oiling his revolvers.
'Know anythin' 'bout that hombre Adam?' asked the deputy casually.
'Heard of him,' Green replied. 'He's bad, all right--one o' the gunmen yu can hire. There's towns in Texas where they'd jerk him on the way to Paradise with considerable enthusiasm.'
'He's after yu,' Pete said.
The marshal grinned. 'Ain't yu the cute little observer,' he bantered, and then, 'Yeah, I sort suspicioned it m'self, an' I'm wonderin'--who's payin'?'
'Well, seein' he's a buzzard I'd say it was a case of 'birds of a feather,' ' the deputy opined. 'I'm a-goin' to be yore shadder tomorrow.'
To this decision he adhered; wherever the marshal went Pete was, unobtrusively, close at hand. It was about noon when the pair of them entered the Red Ace. Adam was there, talking and drinking with several of the toughest inhabitants. Raven was leaning against the far end of the bar, and the attendance was bigger than usual. Immediately the marshal entered all eyes turned upon him, and he guessed that the killer had been talking. With an evil look that advertised his intention to force a quarrel, Adam stepped towards his quarry.
'Marshal, yu ain't lookin' too good--kinda peaky 'bout the gills,' he began. 'I reckon this part o' the country don't suit yu.'
The grating tones carried a plain threat, and the room waited in utter silence for the officer's reply to the challenge. The marshal sipped the drink he had ordered, noting grimly that men in his vicinity were edging away from him. Putting down his glass, he commenced to roll a cigarette.
'Yu think I'd better be goin'?' he asked in mild surprise.
'Don't be funny with me, fella,' he warned. 'I let yu git away with it las' night, but that don't happen twice. Savvy?'
Hands hanging over his gun-butts, teeth bared like a snarling dog's, he thrust his face within a few inches of his intended victim's, his narrowed eyes flaming with the lust to kill. The marshal straightened up and stepped back a pace, throwing his weight on his right foot.
'Mister Adam,' he said quietly. 'I don't like rubbin' noses with a rattlesnake. That face o' yores may look mighty near human two miles off, but at two inches it's an outrage. I'm movin' it.'
With the words his right fist came up, and as the arm shot out, landed with terrific force on the out-thrust jaw of the killer. Driven home with all the power of perfect muscles, backed up by the forward fling of the body, the blow lifted the fellow from his feet and hurled him full length on the floor. He was still conscious, for Green's fist had just missed the point of the jaw, but he could not rise. Lying there, glaring his hatred, he poured out a stream of abuse, and clawed feebly for his gun. 'I guess I wouldn't,' the marshal warned, his hand on his own weapon. 'Fade.'
The ruffian scrambled to his feet, a fury of passion shaking him.
Staggering blindly like a drunken man, Adam went out, and the victor turned to face the advice and expostulations of his friends.
'Yu did oughta drilled him, marshal,' Durley put in. 'He shore asked for it.'
'Oh, I reckon he'll drift,' Green said.
'Drift nothin'--he'll hang around an' shoot yu from cover,' Loder contributed. 'Better leave here by the back door.'
The marshal shook his head. He had noticed Raven's departure immediately after the killer's downfall, and was wondering whether his expression denoted contempt or disappointed anger. When the excitement had died down a little several of the spectators left the saloon, and one of them thrust the door open again to say there was no sign of Adam.
'Two-three of us'll come out with yu,' Pete suggested. 'No, I'll play her a lone hand,' the marshal said firmly. Bunched together, the men went out into the sunshine, but halted a little way along the street. Evidently the news had spread, for there were other groups and heads protruded from windows and doors. Three tense minutes loitered past, and then the swing-door of the saloon was thrown back and the marshal stepped out. At the same instant a gun roared from the corner of a log building opposite and the onlookers saw Green pitch sideways, to lie prone on the footpath, his right arm outflung and his left bent across his hip. With a cackle of malignant triumph, Adam emerged from his shelter, both guns poised.
'Well, gents, I reckon I've sent yore marshal to hell. Any o' yu got notions?'
Muttered curses were the only response to his bravado. Pete, filled with a bitter rage, looked at the prostrate form of his friend and wondered if his eyes were playing tricks. Surely that left hand was moving, nearer and nearer to the holster. A moment later he knew, for the gun was out and spouting flame. The amazed spectators saw the killer crumple up and collapse in the dust, and by the time they reached the marshal, he was on his feet again. They found him untouched.
'Shore thought he'd got yu,' Durley said. 'How'd he come to miss?'
'I fell before he fired,' Green explained. 'I guessed he'd hide an' lay for me. Had to make him show hisself. Well, he had his chance.'
'Why yu give him any has got me guessin',' the deputy grumbled.
Later on, in the privacy of their own shack, Green enlightened him. 'Yu see, Pete,' he argued. 'Yu don't blame a gun for killin', yu blame the fella who pulls the trigger. This Adam jasper was just a gun, an' though I'm holdin' he warn't fit to go on livin', it's the man who used him who oughta be lyin' out there.'
'Mebbe yo're right,' the deputy conceded. 'I'm just .is pleased things worked out as they did. Chewin' over these here fine distinctions'll end one day in yore bein' described as 'the late lamented.''
CHAPTER XVIII
During the next few days Green, in accordance with his resolution, made discreet enquiries regarding Potter. The result was meagre. Residing in a room at the back of his premises, he had remained an Easterner in speech and habits, taking no part in the activities of the town other than his business demanded. So that it was a surprise to the marshal, sitting alone in his office one evening, when the banker opened the door and slipped quietly in.
'Evening, marshal,' he said. 'Am I disturbing you?' Green assured him that he was not and invited him to take a seat. He noticed that the visitor selected a position where he could not be seen from the window, and that his hands were trembling.
'Marshal,' he began, 'I hope you will not be offended, but I've been studying you rather closely since you came here and I've decided that you are to be trusted. Believing that, I am going to depend on you in a matter of the greatest importance to me.' He drew out a long, sealed envelope. 'I want you to take charge of this, hide it, and give me your word that it shall not be opened until the breath is out of my body. It is of no interest to any save one man, and he would sell his soul to destroy it. Should he learn it is in your possession he would slay you without
