4 files changed, 16175 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/old/wylaw10.txt b/old/wylaw10.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b621fe1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/wylaw10.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,8061 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Way of the Lawless, by Max Brand
+
+Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the
+copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing
+this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.
+
+This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project
+Gutenberg file.  Please do not remove it.  Do not change or edit the
+header without written permission.
+
+Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the
+eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file.  Included is
+important information about your specific rights and restrictions in
+how the file may be used.  You can also find out about how to make a
+donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.
+
+
+**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
+
+**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
+
+*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****
+
+
+Title: Way of the Lawless
+
+Author: Max Brand
+
+Release Date: February, 2006 [EBook #9903]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on October 29, 2003]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAY OF THE LAWLESS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Dave Morgan, Tom Allen
+and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+WAY OF THE LAWLESS
+
+Max Brand
+
+1921
+
+Previous ed. published under title: Free Range
+
+
+
+
+WAY OF THE LAWLESS
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+
+Beside the rear window of the blacksmith shop Jasper Lanning held his
+withered arms folded against his chest. With the dispassionate eye and
+the aching heart of an artist he said to himself that his life work was
+a failure. That life work was the young fellow who swung the sledge at
+the forge, and truly it was a strange product for this seventy-year-old
+veteran with his slant Oriental eyes and his narrow beard of white.
+Andrew Lanning was not even his son, but it came about in this way that
+Andrew became the life work of Jasper.
+
+Fifteen years before, the father of Andy died, and Jasper rode out of
+the mountain desert like a hawk dropping out of the pale-blue sky. He
+buried his brother without a tear, and then sat down and looked at the
+slender child who bore his name. Andy was a beautiful boy. He had the
+black hair and eyes, the well-made jaw, and the bone of the Lannings,
+and if his mouth was rather soft and girlish he laid the failing to the
+weakness of childhood. Jasper had no sympathy for tenderness in men. His
+own life was as littered with hard deeds as the side of a mountain with
+boulders. But the black, bright eyes and the well-made jaw of little
+Andy laid hold on him, and he said to himself: "I'm fifty-five. I'm
+about through with my saddle days. I'll settle down and turn out one
+piece of work that'll last after I'm gone, and last with my signature
+on it!"
+
+That was fifteen years ago. And for fifteen years he had labored to make
+Andy a man according to a grim pattern which was known in the Lanning
+clan, and elsewhere in the mountain desert. His program was as simple as
+the curriculum of a Persian youth. On the whole, it was even simpler,
+for Jasper concentrated on teaching the boy how to ride and shoot, and
+was not at all particular that he should learn to speak the truth. But
+on the first two and greatest articles of his creed, how Jasper labored!
+
+For fifteen years he poured his heart without stint into his work! He
+taught Andy to know a horse from hock to teeth, and to ride anything
+that wore hair. He taught him to know a gun as if it were a sentient
+thing. He taught him all the draws of old and new pattern, and labored
+to give him both precision and speed. That was the work of fifteen
+years, and now at the end of this time the old man knew that his life
+work was a failure, for he had made the hand of Andrew Lanning cunning,
+had given his muscles strength, but the heart beneath was wrong.
+
+It was hard to see Andy at the first glance. A film of smoke shifted and
+eddied through the shop, and Andy, working the bellows, was a black form
+against the square of the door, a square filled by the blinding white of
+the alkali dust in the road outside and the blinding white of the sun
+above. Andy turned from the forge, bearing in his tongs a great bar of
+iron black at the ends but white in the middle. The white place was
+surrounded by a sparkling radiance. Andy caught up an eight-pound
+hammer, and it rose and fell lightly in his hand. The sparks rushed
+against the leather apron of the hammer wielder, and as the blows fell
+rapid waves of light were thrown against the face of Andrew.
+
+Looking at that face one wondered how the life work of Jasper was such
+a failure. For Andy was a handsome fellow with his blue-black hair and
+his black, rather slanting eyes, after the Lanning manner. Yet Jasper
+saw, and his heart was sick. The face was a little too full; the square
+bone of the chin was rounded with flesh; and, above all, the mouth had
+never changed. It was the mouth of the child, soft--too womanly soft.
+And Jasper blinked.
+
+When he opened his eyes again the white place on the iron had become a
+dull red, and the face of the blacksmith was again in shadow. All Jasper
+could see was the body of Andy, and that was much better. Red light
+glinted on the sinewy arms and the swaying shoulders, and the hammer
+swayed and fell tirelessly. For fifteen years Jasper had consoled
+himself with the strength of the boy, smooth as silk and as durable; the
+light form which would not tire a horse, but swelled above the waist
+into those formidable shoulders.
+
+Now the bar was lifted from the anvil and plunged, hissing, into the
+bucket beside the forge; above the bucket a cloud of steam rose and
+showed clearly against the brilliant square of the door, and the
+peculiar scent which came from the iron went sharply to the nostrils of
+Jasper. He got up as a horseman entered the shop. He came in a manner
+that pleased Jasper. There was a rush of hoofbeats, a form darting
+through the door, and in the midst of the shop the rider leaped out of
+the saddle and the horse came to a halt with braced legs.
+
+"Hey, you!" called the rider as he tossed the reins over the head of his
+horse. "Here's a hoss that needs iron on his feet. Fix him up. And look
+here"--he lifted a forefoot and showed the scales on the frog and sole
+of the hoof--"last time you shoed this hoss you done a sloppy job, son.
+You left all this stuff hangin' on here. I want it trimmed off nice an'
+neat. You hear?"
+
+The blacksmith shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Spoils the hoof to put the knife on the sole, Buck," said the smith.
+"That peels off natural."
+
+"H'm," said Buck Heath. "How old are you, son?"
+
+"Oh, old enough," answered Andy cheerily. "Old enough to know that this
+exfoliation is entirely natural."
+
+The big word stuck in the craw of Buck Heath, who brought his thick
+eyebrows together. "I've rid horses off and on come twenty-five years,"
+he declared, "and I've rid 'em long enough to know how I want 'em shod.
+This is my hoss, son, and you do it my way. That straight?"
+
+The eye of old Jasper in the rear of the shop grew dim with wistfulness
+as he heard this talk. He knew Buck Heath; he knew his kind; in his day
+he would have eaten a dozen men of such rough words and such mild deeds
+as Buck. But searching the face of Andy, he saw no resentment. Merely a
+quiet resignation.
+
+"Another thing," said Buck Heath, who seemed determined to press the
+thing to a disagreeable point. "I hear you don't fit your shoes on
+hot. Well?"
+
+"I never touch a hoof with hot iron," replied Andy. "It's a rotten
+practice."
+
+"Is it?" said Buck Heath coldly. "Well, son, you fit my hoss with hot
+shoes or I'll know the reason why."
+
+"I've got to do the work my own way," protested Andy.
+
+A spark of hope burned in the slant eyes of Jasper.
+
+"Otherwise I can go find another gent to do my shoein'?" inquired Buck.
+
+"It looks that way," replied the blacksmith with a nod.
+
+"Well," said Buck, whose mildness of the last question had been merely
+the cover for a bursting wrath that now sent his voice booming, "maybe
+you know a whole pile, boy--I hear Jasper has give you consid'able
+education--but what you know is plumb wasted on me. Understand? As for
+lookin' up another blacksmith, you ought to know they ain't another shop
+in ten miles. You'll do this job, and you'll do it my way. Maybe you
+got another way of thinkin'?"
+
+There was a little pause.
+
+"It's your horse," repeated Andy. "I suppose I can do him your own way."
+
+Old Jasper closed his eyes in silent agony. Looking again, he saw Buck
+Heath grinning with contempt, and for a single moment Jasper touched his
+gun. Then he remembered that he was seventy years old. "Well, Buck?" he
+said, coming forward. For he felt that if this scene continued he would
+go mad with shame.
+
+There was a great change in Buck as he heard this voice, a marked
+respect was in his manner as he turned to Jasper. "Hello, Jas," he said.
+"I didn't know you was here."
+
+"Come over to the saloon, Buck, and have one on me," said Jasper. "I
+guess Andy'll have your hoss ready when we come back."
+
+"Speakin' personal," said Buck Heath with much heartiness, "I don't pass
+up no chances with no man, and particular if he's Jasper Lanning." He
+hooked his arm through Jasper's elbow. "Besides, that boy of yours has
+got me all heated up. Where'd he learn them man-sized words, Jas?"
+
+All of which Andy heard, and he knew that Buck Heath intended him to
+hear them. It made Andy frown, and for an instant he thought of calling
+Buck back. But he did not call. Instead he imagined what would happen.
+Buck would turn on his heel and stand, towering, in the door. He would
+ask what Andy wanted. Andy chose the careful insult which he would throw
+in Buck's face. He saw the blow given. He felt his own fist tingle as he
+returned the effort with interest. He saw Buck tumble back over the
+bucket of water.
+
+By this time Andy was smiling gently to himself. His wrath had
+dissolved, and he was humming pleasantly to himself as he began to pull
+off the worn shoes of Buck's horse.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+
+Young Andrew Lanning lived in the small, hushed world of his own
+thoughts. He neither loved nor hated the people around him. He simply
+did not see them. His mother--it was from her that he inherited the
+softer qualities of his mind and his face--had left him a little stock
+of books. And though Andy was by no means a reader, he had at least
+picked up that dangerous equipment of fiction which enables a man to
+dodge reality and live in his dreams. Those dreams had as little as
+possible to do with the daily routine of his life, and certainly the
+handling of guns, which his uncle enforced upon him, was never a part of
+the future as Andy saw it.
+
+It was now the late afternoon; the alkali dust in the road was still in
+a white light, but the temperature in the shop had dropped several
+degrees. The horse of Buck Heath was shod, and Andy was laying his tools
+away for the day when he heard the noise of an automobile with open
+muffler coming down the street. He stepped to the door to watch, and at
+that moment a big blue car trundled into view around the bend of the
+road. The rear wheels struck a slide of sand and dust, and skidded; a
+girl cried out; then the big machine gathered out of the cloud of dust,
+and came toward Andy with a crackling like musketry, and it was plain
+that it would leap through Martindale and away into the country beyond
+at a bound. Andy could see now that it was a roadster, low-hung,
+ponderous, to keep the road.
+
+Pat Gregg was leaving the saloon; he was on his horse, but he sat the
+saddle slanting, and his head was turned to give the farewell word to
+several figures who bulged through the door of the saloon. For that
+reason, as well as because of the fumes in his brain, he did not hear
+the coming of the automobile. His friends from the saloon yelled a
+warning, but he evidently thought it some jest, as he waved his hand
+with a grin of appreciation. The big car was coming, rocking with its
+speed; it was too late now to stop that flying mass of metal.
+
+But the driver made the effort. His brakes shrieked, and still the car
+shot on with scarcely abated speed, for the wheels could secure no
+purchase in the thin sand of the roadway. Andy's heart stood still in
+sympathy as he saw the face of the driver whiten and grow tense. Charles
+Merchant, the son of rich John Merchant, was behind the wheel. Drunken
+Pat Gregg had taken the warning at last. He turned in the saddle and
+drove home his spurs, but even that had been too late had not Charles
+Merchant taken the big chance. At the risk of overturning the machine he
+veered it sharply to the left. It hung for a moment on two wheels. Andy
+could count a dozen heartbeats while the plunging car edged around the
+horse and shoved between Pat and the wall of the house--inches on either
+side. Yet it must have taken not more than the split part of a second.
+
+There was a shout of applause from the saloon; Pat Gregg sat his horse,
+mouth open, his face pale, and then the heavy car rolled past the
+blacksmith shop. Andy, breathing freely and cold to his finger tips, saw
+young Charlie Merchant relax to a flickering smile as the girl beside
+him caught his arm and spoke to him.
+
+And then Andy saw her for the first time.
+
+In the brief instant as the machine moved by, he printed the picture to
+be seen again when she was gone. What was the hair? Red bronze, and
+fiery where the sun caught at it, and the eyes were gray, or blue, or a
+gray-green. But colors did not matter. It was all in her smile and the
+turning of her eyes, which were very wide open. She spoke, and it was in
+the sound of her voice. "Wait!" shouted Andy Lanning as he made a step
+toward them. But the car went on, rocking over the bumps and the exhaust
+roaring. Andy became aware that his shout had been only a dry whisper.
+Besides, what would he say if they did stop?
+
+And then the girl turned sharply about and looked back, not at the horse
+they had so nearly struck, but at Andy standing in the door of his shop.
+He felt sure that she would remember his face; her smile had gone out
+while she stared, and now she turned her head suddenly to the front.
+Once more the sun flashed on her hair; then the machine disappeared. In
+a moment even the roar of the engine was lost, but it came back again,
+flung in echoes from some hillside.
+
+Not until all was silent, and the boys from the saloon were shaking
+hands with Pat and laughing at him, did Andy turn back into the
+blacksmith shop. He sat down on the anvil with his heart beating, and
+began to recall the picture. Yes, it was all in the smile and the glint
+of the eyes. And something else--how should he say it?--of the light
+shining through her.
+
+He stood up presently, closed the shop, and went home. Afterward his
+uncle came in a fierce humor, slamming the door. He found Andy sitting
+in front of the table staring down at his hands.
+
+"Buck Heath has been talkin' about you," said Jasper.
+
+Andy raised his head. "Look at 'em!" he said as he spread out his hands.
+"I been scrubbin' 'em with sand soap for half an hour, and the oil and
+the iron dust won't come out."
+
+Uncle Jasper, who had a quiet voice and gentle manners, now stood rigid.
+"I wisht to God that some iron dust would work its way into your
+soul," he said.
+
+"What are you talking about?"
+
+"Nothin' you could understand; you need a mother to explain things to
+you."
+
+The other got up, white about the mouth. "I think I do," said Andy.
+"I'm sick inside."
+
+"Where's supper?" demanded Jasper.
+
+Andy sat down again, and began to consider his hands once more. "There's
+something wrong--something dirty about this life."
+
+"Is there?" Uncle Jasper leaned across the table, and once again the old
+ghost of a hope was flickering behind his eyes. "Who's been talkin'
+to you?"
+
+He thought of the grinning men of the saloon; the hidden words. Somebody
+might have gone out and insulted Andy to his face for the first time.
+There had been plenty of insults in the past two years, since Andy could
+pretend to manhood, but none that might not be overlooked. "Who's been
+talkin' to you?" repeated Uncle Jasper. "Confound that Buck Heath! He's
+the cause of all the trouble!"
+
+"Buck Heath! Who's he? Oh, I remember. What's he got to do with the
+rotten life we lead here, Uncle Jas?"
+
+"So?" said the old man slowly. "He ain't nothin'?"
+
+"Bah!" remarked Andy. "You want me to go out and fight him? I won't. I
+got no love for fighting. Makes me sort of sickish."
+
+"Heaven above!" the older man invoked. "Ain't you got shame? My blood in
+you, too!"
+
+"Don't talk like that," said Andy with a certain amount of reserve which
+was not natural to him. "You bother me. I want a little silence and a
+chance to think things out. There's something wrong in the way I've
+been living."
+
+"You're the last to find it out."
+
+"If you keep this up I'm going to take a walk so I can have quiet."
+
+"You'll sit there, son, till I'm through with you. Now, Andrew, these
+years I've been savin' up for this moment when I was sure that--"
+
+To his unutterable astonishment Andy rose and stepped between him and
+the door. "Uncle Jas," he said, "mostly I got a lot of respect for you
+and what you think. Tonight I don't care what you or anybody else has to
+say. Just one thing matters. I feel I've been living in the dirt. I'm
+going out and see what's wrong. Good night."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+
+Uncle Jas was completely bowled over. Over against the wall as the door
+closed he was saying to himself: "What's happened? What's happened?" As
+far as he could make out his nephew retained very little fear of the
+authority of Jasper Lanning.
+
+One thing became clear to the old man. There had to be a decision
+between his nephew and some full-grown man, otherwise Andy was very apt
+to grow up into a sneaking coward. And in the matter of a contest Jasper
+could not imagine a better trial horse than Buck Heath. For Buck was
+known to be violent with his hands, but he was not likely to draw his
+gun, and, more than this, he might even be bluffed down without making a
+show of a fight. Uncle Jasper left his house supperless, and struck down
+the street until he came to the saloon.
+
+He found Buck Heath warming to his work, resting both elbows on the bar.
+Bill Dozier was with him, Bill who was the black sheep in the fine old
+Dozier family. His brother, Hal Dozier, was by many odds the most
+respected and the most feared man in the region, but of all the good
+Dozier qualities Bill inherited only their fighting capacity. He fought;
+he loved trouble; and for that reason, and not because he needed the
+money, he was now acting as a deputy sheriff. He was jesting with Buck
+Heath in a rather superior manner, half contemptuous, half amused by
+Buck's alcoholic swaggerings. And Buck was just sober enough to
+perceive that he was being held lightly. He hated Dozier for that
+treatment, but he feared him too much to take open offense. It was at
+this opportune moment that old man Lanning, apparently half out of
+breath, touched Buck on the elbow.
+
+As Buck turned with a surly "What the darnation?" the other whispered:
+"Be on your way, Buck. Get out of town, and get out of trouble. My boy
+hears you been talkin' about him, and he allows as how he'll get you.
+He's out for you now."
+
+The fumes cleared sufficiently from Buck Heath's mind to allow him to
+remember that Jasper Lanning's boy was no other than the milk-blooded
+Andy. He told Jasper to lead his boy on. There was a reception committee
+waiting for him there in the person of one Buck Heath.
+
+"Don't be a fool, Buck," said Jasper, glancing over his shoulder. "Don't
+you know that Andy's a crazy, man-killin' fool when he gets started? And
+he's out for blood now. You just slide out of town and come back when
+his blood's cooled down."
+
+Buck Heath took another drink from the bottle in his pocket, and then
+regarded Jasper moodily. "Partner," he declared gloomily, putting his
+hand on the shoulder of Jasper, "maybe Andy's a man-eater, but I'm a
+regular Andy-eater, and here's the place where I go and get my feed.
+Lemme loose!"
+
+He kicked open the door of the saloon. "Where is he?" demanded the
+roaring Andy-eater. Less savagely, he went on: "I'm lookin' for
+my meat!"
+
+Jasper Lanning and Bill Dozier exchanged glances of understanding.
+"Partly drunk, but mostly yaller," observed Bill Dozier. "Soon as the
+air cools him off outside he'll mount his hoss and get on his way. But,
+say, is your boy really out for his scalp?" "Looks that way," declared
+Jasper with tolerable gravity.
+
+"I didn't know he was that kind," said Bill Dozier. And Jasper flushed,
+for the imputation was clear. They went together to the window and
+looked out.
+
+It appeared that Bill Dozier was right. After standing in the middle of
+the street in the twilight for a moment, Buck Heath turned and went
+straight for his horse. A low murmur passed around the saloon, for other
+men were at the windows watching. They had heard Buck's talk earlier in
+the day, and they growled as they saw him turn tail.
+
+Two moments more and Buck would have been on his horse, but in those two
+moments luck took a hand. Around the corner came Andrew Lanning with his
+head bowed in thought. At once a roar went up from every throat in the
+saloon: "There's your man. Go to him!"
+
+Buck Heath turned from his horse; Andrew lifted his head. They were face
+to face, and it was hard to tell to which one of them the other was the
+least welcome. But Andrew spoke first. A thick silence had fallen in the
+saloon. Most of the onlookers wore careless smiles, for the caliber of
+these two was known, and no one expected violence; but Jasper Lanning,
+at the door, stood with a sick face. He was praying in the silence.
+
+Every one could hear Andrew say: "I hear you've been making a talk about
+me, Buck?"
+
+It was a fair enough opening. The blood ran more freely in the veins of
+Jasper. Perhaps the quiet of his boy had not been altogether the quiet
+of cowardice.
+
+"Aw," answered Buck Heath, "don't you be takin' everything you hear for
+gospel. What kind of talk do you mean?"
+
+"He's layin' down," said Bill Dozier, and his voice was soft but audible
+in the saloon. "The skunk!"
+
+"I was about to say," said Andrew, "that I think you had no cause for
+talk. I've done you no harm, Buck."
+
+The hush in the saloon became thicker; eyes of pity turned on that
+proved man, Jasper Lanning. He had bowed his head. And the words of the
+younger man had an instant effect on Buck Heath. They seemed to
+infuriate him.
+
+"You've done me no harm?" he echoed. He let his voice out; he even
+glanced back and took pleasurable note of the crowded faces behind the
+dim windows of the saloon. Just then Geary, the saloon keeper, lighted
+one of the big lamps, and at once all the faces at the windows became
+black silhouettes. "You done me no harm?" repeated Buck Heath. "Ain't
+you been goin' about makin' a talk that you was after me? Well, son,
+here I am. Now let's see you eat!"
+
+"I've said nothing about you," declared Andy. There was a groan from the
+saloon. Once more all eyes flashed across to Jasper Lanning.
+
+"Bah!" snorted Buck Heath, and raised his hand. To crown the horror, the
+other stepped back. A little puff of alkali dust attested the movement.
+
+"I'll tell you," roared Buck, "you ain't fittin' for a man's hand to
+touch, you ain't. A hosswhip is more your style."
+
+From the pommel of his saddle he snatched his quirt. It whirled, hummed
+in the air, and then cracked on the shoulders of Andrew. In the dimness
+of the saloon door a gun flashed in the hand of Jasper Lanning. It was a
+swift draw, but he was not in time to shoot, for Andy, with a cry,
+ducked in under the whip as it raised for the second blow and grappled
+with Buck Heath. They swayed, then separated as though they had been
+torn apart. But the instant of contact had told Andy a hundred things.
+He was much smaller than the other, but he knew that he was far and away
+stronger after that grapple. It cleared his brain, and his nerves
+ceased jumping.
+
+"Keep off," he said. "I've no wish to harm you."
+
+"You houn' dog!" yelled Buck, and leaped in with a driving fist.
+
+It bounced off the shoulder of Andrew. At the same time he saw those
+banked heads at the windows of the saloon, and knew it was a trap for
+him. All the scorn and the grief which had been piling up in him, all
+the cold hurt went into the effort as he stepped in and snapped his fist
+into the face of Buck Heath. He rose with the blow; all his energy, from
+wrist to instep, was in that lifting drive. Then there was a jarring
+impact that made his arm numb to the shoulder. Buck Heath looked blankly
+at him, wavered, and pitched loosely forward on his face. And his head
+bounced back as it struck the ground. It was a horrible thing to see,
+but it brought one wild yell of joy from the saloon--the voice of
+Jasper Lanning.
+
+Andrew had dropped to his knees and turned the body upon its back. The
+stone had been half buried in the dust, but it had cut a deep, ragged
+gash on the forehead of Buck. His eyes were open, glazed; his mouth
+sagged; and as the first panic seized Andy he fumbled at the heart of
+the senseless man and felt no beat.
+
+"Dead!" exclaimed Andy, starting to his feet. Men were running toward
+him from the saloon, and their eagerness made him see a picture he had
+once seen before. A man standing in the middle of a courtroom; the place
+crowded; the judge speaking from behind the desk: "--to be hanged by the
+neck until--"
+
+A revolver came into the hand of Andrew. And when he found his voice,
+there was a snapping tension in it.
+
+"Stop!" he called. The scattering line stopped like horses thrown back
+on their haunches by jerked bridle reins. "And don't make no move,"
+continued Andy, gathering the reins of Buck's horse behind him. A
+blanket of silence had dropped on the street.
+
+"The first gent that shows metal," said Andy, "I'll drill him. Keep
+steady!"
+
+He turned and flashed into the saddle. Once more his gun covered them.
+He found his mind working swiftly, calmly. His knees pressed the long
+holster of an old-fashioned rifle. He knew that make of gun from toe to
+foresight; he could assemble it in the dark.
+
+"You, Perkins! Get your hands away from your hip. Higher, blast you!"
+
+He was obeyed. His voice was thin, but it kept that line of hands high
+above their heads. When he moved his gun the whole line winced; it was
+as if his will were communicated to them on electric currents. He sent
+his horse into a walk; into a trot; then dropped along the saddle, and
+was plunging at full speed down the street, leaving a trail of sharp
+alkali dust behind him and a long, tingling yell.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+
+Only one man in the crowd was old enough to recognize that yell, and the
+one man was Jasper Lanning. A great, singing happiness filled his heart
+and his throat. But the shouting of the men as they tumbled into their
+saddles cleared his brain. He called to Deputy Bill Dozier, who was
+kneeling beside the prostrate form of Buck Heath: "Call 'em off, Bill.
+Call 'em off, or, by the Lord, I'll take a hand in this! He done it in
+self-defense. He didn't even pull a gun on Buck. Bill, call 'em off!"
+
+And Bill did it most effectually. He straightened, and then got up.
+"Some of you fools get some sense, will you?" he called. "Buck ain't
+dead; he's just knocked out!"
+
+It brought them back, a shamefaced crew, laughing at each other.
+"Where's a doctor?" demanded Bill Dozier.
+
+Someone who had an inkling of how wounds should be cared for was
+instantly at work over Buck. "He's not dead," pronounced this authority,
+"but he's danged close to it. Fractured skull, that's what he's got.
+And a fractured jaw, too, looks to me. Yep, you can hear the
+bone grate!"
+
+Jasper Lanning was in the midst of a joyous monologue. "You seen it,
+boys? One punch done it. That's what the Lannings are--the one-punch
+kind. And you seen him get to his gun? Handy! Lord, but it done me good
+to see him mosey that piece of iron off'n his hip. And see him take that
+saddle? Where was you with your gal, Joe? Nowhere! Looked to me like--"
+
+The voice of Bill Dozier broke in: "I want a posse. Who'll ride with
+Bill Dozier tonight?"
+
+It sobered Jasper Lanning. "What d'you mean by that?" he asked. "Didn't
+the boy fight clean?"
+
+"Maybe," admitted Dozier. "But Buck may kick out. And if he dies they's
+got to be a judge talk to your boy. Come on. I want volunteers."
+
+"Dozier, what's all this fool talk?"
+
+"Don't bother me, Lanning. I got a duty to perform, ain't I? Think I'm
+going to let 'em say later on that anybody done this and then got away
+from Bill Dozier? Not me!"
+
+"Bill," said Jasper, "I read in your mind. You're lookin' for action,
+and you want to get it out of Andy."
+
+"I want nothin' but to get him back."
+
+"Think he'll let you come close enough to talk? He'll think you want him
+for murder, that's what. Keep off of this boy, Bill. Let him hear the
+news; then he'll come back well enough."
+
+"You waste my time," said Bill, "and all the while a man that the law
+wants is puttin' ground between him and Martindale. Now, boys, you hear
+me talk. Who's with Bill Dozier to bring back this milk-fed kid?"
+
+It brought a snarl from Jasper Lanning. "Why don't you go after him by
+yourself, Dozier? I had your job once and I didn't ask no helpers
+on it."
+
+But Bill Dozier apparently had no liking for a lonely ride. He made his
+demand once more, and the volunteers came out. In five minutes he had
+selected five sturdy men, and every one of the five was a man whose name
+was known.
+
+They went down the street of Martindale without shouting and at a steady
+lope which their horses could keep up indefinitely. Old Jasper followed
+them to the end of the village and kept on watching through the dusk
+until the six horsemen loomed on the hill beyond against the sky line.
+They were still cantering, and they rode close together like a tireless
+pack of wolves. After this old Jasper went back to his house, and when
+the door closed behind him a lonely echo went through the place.
+
+"Bah!" said Jasper. "I'm getting soft!"
+
+In the meantime the posse went on, regardless of direction. There were
+only two possible paths for a horseman out of Martindale; east and west
+the mountains blocked the way, and young Lanning had started north.
+Straight ahead of them the mountains shot up on either side of Grant's
+Pass, and toward this natural landmark Bill Dozier led the way. Not that
+he expected to have to travel as far as this. He felt fairly certain
+that the fugitive would ride out his horse at full speed, and then he
+would camp for the night and make a fire.
+
+Andrew Lanning was town bred and soft of skin from the work at the
+forge. When the biting night air got through his clothes he would need
+warmth from a fire.
+
+Bill Dozier led on his men for three hours at a steady pace until they
+came to Sullivan's ranch house in the valley. The place was dark, but
+the deputy threw a loose circle of his men around the house, and then
+knocked at the front door. Old man Sullivan answered in his bare feet.
+Did he know of the passing of young Lanning? Not only that, but he had
+sold Andrew a horse. It seemed that Andrew was making a hurried trip;
+that Buck Heath had loaned him his horse for the first leg of it, and
+that Buck would call later for the animal. It had sounded strange, but
+Sullivan was not there to ask questions. He had led Andrew to the corral
+and told him to make his choice.
+
+"There was an old pinto in there," said Sullivan, "all leather in that
+hoss. You know him, Joe. Well, the boy runs his eye over the bunch, and
+then picks the pinto right off. I said he wasn't for sale, but he
+wouldn't take anything else. I figured a stiff price, and then added a
+hundred to it. Lanning didn't wink. He took the horse, but he didn't pay
+cash. Told me I'd have to trust him."
+
+Bill Dozier bade Sullivan farewell, gathered his five before the house,
+and made them a speech. Bill had a long, lean face, a misty eye, and a
+pair of drooping, sad mustaches. As Jasper Lanning once said: "Bill
+Dozier always looked like he was just away from a funeral or just goin'
+to one." This night the dull eye of Bill was alight.
+
+"Gents," he said, "maybe you-all is disappointed. I heard some talk
+comin' up here that maybe the boy had laid over for the night in
+Sullivan's house. Which he may be a fool, but he sure ain't a plumb
+fool. But, speakin' personal, this trail looks more and more interestin'
+to me. Here he's left Buck's hoss, so he ain't exactly a hoss
+thief--yet. And he's promised to pay for the pinto, so that don't make
+him a crook. But when the pinto gives out, Andy'll be in country where
+he mostly ain't known. He can't take things on trust, and he'll mostly
+take 'em, anyway. Boys, looks to me like we was after the real article.
+Anybody weakenin'?"
+
+It was suggested that the boy would be overtaken before the pinto gave
+out; it was even suggested that this waiting for Andrew Lanning to
+commit a crime was perilously like forcing him to become a criminal. To
+all of this the deputy listened sadly, combing his mustaches. The hunger
+for the manhunt is like the hunger for food, and Bill Dozier had been
+starved for many a day.
+
+"Partner," said Bill to the last speaker, "ain't we makin' all the
+speed we can? Ain't it what I want to come up to the fool kid and grab
+him before he makes a hoss thief or somethin' out of himself? You gents
+feed your hosses the spur and leave the thinkin' to me. I got a pile
+of hunches."
+
+There was no questioning of such a known man as Bill Dozier. The six
+went rattling up the valley at a smart pace. Yet Andy's change of horses
+at Sullivan's place changed the entire problem. He had ridden his first
+mount to a stagger at full speed, and it was to be expected that, having
+built up a comfortable lead, he would settle his second horse to a
+steady pace and maintain it.
+
+All night the six went on, with Bill Dozier's long-striding chestnut
+setting the pace. He made no effort toward a spurt now. Andrew Lanning
+led them by a full hour's riding on a comparatively fresh horse, and,
+unless he were foolish enough to indulge in another wild spurt, they
+could not wear him down in this first stage of the journey. There was
+only the chance that he would build a fire recklessly near to the trail,
+but still they came to no sign of light, and then the dawn broke and
+Bill Dozier found unmistakable signs of a trotting horse which went
+straight up the valley. There were no other fresh tracks pointing in the
+same direction, and this must be Andy's horse. And the fact that he was
+trotting told many things. He was certainly saving his mount for a long
+grind. Bill Dozier looked about at his men in the gray morning. They
+were a hard-faced lot; he had not picked them for tenderness. They were
+weary now, but the fugitive must be still wearier, for he had fear to
+keep him company and burden his shoulders.
+
+And now they came to a surprising break in the trail. It twisted from
+the floor of the valley up a steep slope, crossed the low crest of the
+hills, and finally came out above a broad and open valley.
+
+"What does he mean," said Bill Dozier aloud, "by breakin' for Jack
+Merchant's house?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 5
+
+
+The yell with which Andrew Lanning had shot out of Martindale, and which
+only Jasper Lanning had recognized, was no more startling to the men of
+the village than it was to Andrew himself. Mingled in an ecstasy of
+emotion, there was fear, hate, anger, grief, and the joy of freedom in
+that cry; but it froze the marrow of Andy's bones to hear it.
+
+Fear, most of all, was driving him out of the village. Just as he rushed
+around the bend of the street he looked back to the crowd of men
+tumbling upon their horses; every hand there would be against him. He
+knew them. He ran over their names and faces. Thirty seconds before he
+would rather have walked on the edge of a cliff than rouse the anger of
+a single one among these men, and now, by one blow, he had started them
+all after him.
+
+Once, as he topped the rise, the folly of attempting to escape from
+their long-proved cunning made him draw in on the rein a little; but the
+horse only snorted and shook his head and burst into a greater effort of
+speed. After all, the horse was right, Andy decided. For the moment he
+thought of turning and facing that crowd, but he remembered stories
+about men who had killed the enemy in fair fight, but who had been tried
+by a mob jury and strung to the nearest tree.
+
+Any sane man might have told Andrew that those days were some distance
+in the past, but Andy made no distinction between periods. He knew the
+most exciting events which had happened around Martindale in the past
+fifty years, and he saw no difference between one generation and the
+next. Was not Uncle Jasper himself continually dinning into his ears
+the terrible possibilities of trouble? Was not Uncle Jasper, even in his
+old age, religiously exacting in his hour or more of gun exercise each
+day? Did not Uncle Jasper force Andy to go through the same maneuvers
+for twice as long between sunset and sunrise? And why all these endless
+preparations if these men of Martindale were not killers?
+
+It might seem strange that Andy could have lived so long among these
+people without knowing them better, but he had taken from his mother a
+little strain of shyness. He never opened his mind to other people, and
+they really never opened themselves to Andy Lanning. The men of
+Martindale wore guns, and the conclusion had always been apparent to
+Andy that they wore guns because, in a pinch, they were ready to
+kill men.
+
+To Andy Lanning, as fear whipped him north out of Martindale, there
+seemed no pleasure or safety in the world except in the speed of his
+horse and the whir of the air against his face. When that speed faltered
+he went to the quirt. He spurred mercilessly. Yet he had ridden his
+horse out to a stagger before he reached old Sullivan's place. Only when
+the forefeet of the mustang began to pound did he realize his folly in
+exhausting his horse when the race was hardly begun. He went into the
+ranch house to get a new mount.
+
+When he was calmer, he realized that he had played his part
+well--astonishingly well. His voice had not quivered. His eye had met
+that of the old rancher every moment. His hand had been as steady
+as iron.
+
+Something that Uncle Jasper had said recurred to him, something about
+iron dust. He felt now that there was indeed a strong, hard metal in
+him; fear had put it there--or was it fear itself? Was it not fear that
+had brought the gun into his hand so easily when the crowd rushed him
+from the door of the saloon? Was it not fear that had made his nerves
+so rocklike as he faced that crowd and made his get-away?
+
+He was on one side now, and the world was on the other. He turned in the
+saddle and probed the thick blackness with his eyes; then he sent the
+pinto on at an easy, ground-devouring lope. Sometimes, as the ravine
+narrowed, the close walls made the creaking of the saddle leather loud
+in his ears, and the puffing of the pinto, who hated work; sometimes the
+hoofs scuffed noisily through gravel; but usually the soft sand muffled
+the noise of hoofs, and there was a silence as dense as the night around
+Andy Lanning.
+
+Thinking back, he felt that it was all absurd and dreamlike. He had
+never hurt a man before in his life. Martindale knew it. Why could he
+not go back, face them, give up his gun, wait for the law to speak?
+
+But when he thought of this he thought a moment later of a crowd rushing
+their horses through the night, leaning over their saddles to break the
+wind more easily, and all ready to kill on this man trail.
+
+All at once a great hate welled up in him, and he went on with gritting
+teeth.
+
+It was out of this anger, oddly enough, that the memory of the girl came
+to him. She was like the falling of this starlight, pure, aloof, and
+strange and gentle. It seemed to Andrew Lanning that the instant of
+seeing her outweighed the rest of his life, but he would never see her
+again. How could he see her, and if he saw her, what would he say to
+her? It would not be necessary to speak. One glance would be enough.
+
+But, sooner or later, Bill Dozier would reach him. Why not sooner? Why
+not take the chance, ride to John Merchant's ranch, break a way to the
+room where the girl slept this night, smash open the door, look at her
+once, and then fight his way out?
+
+He swung out of the ravine and headed across the hills. From the crest
+the valley was broad and dark below him, and on the opposite side the
+hills were blacker still. He let the pinto go down the steep slope at a
+walk, for there is nothing like a fast pace downhill to tear the heart
+out of a horse. Besides, it came to him after he started, were not the
+men of Bill Dozier apt to miss this sudden swinging of the trail?
+
+In the floor of the valley he sent the pinto again into the stretching
+canter, found the road, and went on with a thin cloud of the alkali dust
+about him until the house rose suddenly out of the ground, a black mass
+whose gables seemed to look at him like so many heads above the
+tree-tops.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 6
+
+
+The house would have been more in place on the main street of a town
+than here in the mountain desert; but when the first John Merchant had
+made his stake and could build his home as it pleased him to build, his
+imagination harked back to a mid-Victorian model, built of wood, with
+high, pointed roofs, many carved balconies and windows, and several
+towers. Here the second John Merchant lived with his son Charles, whose
+taste had quite outgrown the house.
+
+But to the uneducated eye of Andrew Lanning it was a great and dignified
+building. He reined the pinto under the trees to look up at that tall,
+black mass. It was doubly dark against the sky, for now the first
+streaks of gray light were pale along the eastern horizon, and the house
+seemed to tower up into the center of the heavens. Andy sighed at the
+thought of stealing through the great halls within. Even if he could
+find an open window, or if the door were unlatched, how could he
+find the girl?
+
+Another thing troubled him. He kept canting his ear with eternal
+expectation of hearing the chorus of many hoofs swinging toward him out
+of the darkness. After all, it was not a simple thing to put Bill Dozier
+off the trail. When a horse neighed in one of the corrals, Andy started
+violently and laid his fingertips on his revolver butt.
+
+That false alarm determined him to make his attempt without further
+waste of time. He swung from the stirrups and went lightly up the front
+steps. His footfall was a feathery thing that carried him like a shadow
+to the door. It yielded at once under his hand, and, stepping through,
+he found himself lost in utter blackness.
+
+He closed the door, taking care that the spring did not make the lock
+click, and then stood perfectly motionless, listening, probing the dark.
+
+After a time the shadows gave way before his eyes, and he could make out
+that he was in a hall with lofty ceiling. Something wound down from
+above at a little distance, and he made out that this was the stairway.
+Obviously the bedrooms would be in the second story.
+
+Andy began the ascent.
+
+He had occasion to bless the thick carpet before he was at the head of
+the stairs; he could have run up if he had wished, and never have made a
+sound. At the edge of the second hall he paused again. The sense of
+people surrounded him. Then directly behind him a man cleared his
+throat. As though a great hand had seized his shoulder and wrenched him
+down, Andy whirled and dropped to his knees, the revolver in his hand
+pointing uneasily here and there like the head of a snake laboring to
+find its enemy.
+
+But there was nothing in the hall. The voice became a murmur, and then
+Andy knew that it had been some man speaking in his sleep.
+
+At least that room was not the room of the girl. Or was she, perhaps,
+married? Weak and sick, Andy rested his hand against the wall and waited
+for his brain to clear. "She won't be married," he whispered to himself
+in the darkness.
+
+But of all those doors up and down the hall, which would be hers? There
+was no reasoning which could help him in the midst of that puzzle. He
+walked to what he judged to be the middle of the hall, turned to his
+right, and opened the first door. A hinge creaked, but it was no louder
+than the rustle of silk against silk.
+
+There were two windows in that room, and each was gray with the dawn,
+but in the room itself the blackness was unrelieved. There was the one
+dim stretch of white, which was the covering of the bed; the furniture,
+the chairs, and the table were half merged with the shadows around them.
+Andy slipped across the floor, evaded a chair by instinct rather than by
+sight, and leaned over the bed. It was a man, as he could tell by the
+heavy breathing; yet he leaned closer in a vain effort to make surer by
+the use of his eyes.
+
+Then something changed in the face of the man in the bed. It was an
+indescribable change, but Andrew knew that the man had opened his eyes.
+Before he could straighten or stir, hands were thrown up. One struck at
+his face, and the fingers were stiff; one arm was cast over his
+shoulders, and Andy heard the intake of breath which precedes a shriek.
+Not a long interval--no more, say, than the space required for the lash
+of a snapping blacksnake to flick back on itself--but in that interim
+the hands of Andy were buried in the throat of his victim.
+
+His fingers, accustomed to the sway and quiver of eight-pound hammers
+and fourteen-pound sledges, sank through the flesh and found the
+windpipe. And the hands of the other grappled at his wrists, smashed
+into his face. Andy could have laughed at the effort. He jammed the shin
+of his right leg just above the knees of the other, and at once the
+writhing body was quiet. With all of his blood turned to ice, Andy
+found, what he had discovered when he faced the crowd in Martindale,
+that his nerves did not jump and that his heart, instead of trembling,
+merely beat with greater pulses. Fear cleared his brain; it sent a
+tremendous nervous power thrilling in his wrists and elbows. All the
+while he was watching mercilessly for the cessation of the struggles.
+And when the wrenching at his forearms ceased he instantly relaxed
+his grip.
+
+For a time there was a harsh sound filling the room, the rough intake of
+the man's breath; he was for the time being paralyzed and incapable of
+any effort except the effort to fill his lungs. By the glint of the
+metal work about the bits Andy made out two bridles hanging on the wall
+near the bed. Taking them down, he worked swiftly. As soon as the fellow
+on the bed would have his breath he would scream. Yet the time sufficed
+Andy; he had his knife out, flicked the blade open, and cut off the long
+reins of the bridles. Then he went back to the bed and shoved the cold
+muzzle of his revolver into the throat of the other.
+
+There was a tremor through the whole body of the man, and Andy knew that
+at that moment the senses of his victim had cleared.
+
+He leaned close to the ear of the man and whispered: "Don't make no loud
+talk, partner. Keep cool and steady. I don't aim to hurt you unless you
+play the fool."
+
+Instantly the man answered in a similar whisper, though it was broken
+with panting: "Get that coat of mine out the closet. There--the door is
+open. You'll find my wallet in the inside pocket and about all you can
+want will be in it."
+
+"That's the way," reassured Andy. "Keep your head and use sense. But it
+isn't the coin I want. You've got a red-headed girl in this house.
+Where's her room?"
+
+His hand which held the revolver was resting on the breast of the man,
+and he felt the heart of the other leap. Then there was a current of
+curses, a swift hissing of invective. And suddenly it came over Andy
+that since he had killed one man, as he thought, the penalty would be no
+greater if he killed ten. All at once the life of this prostrate fellow
+on the bed was nothing to him.
+
+When he cut into that profanity he meant what he said. "Partner, I've
+got a pull on this trigger. There's a slug in this gun just trembling to
+get at you. And I tell you honest, friend, I'd as soon drill you as turn
+around. Now tell me where that girl's room is?"
+
+"Anne Withero?" Only his breathing was heard for a moment. Then: "Two
+doors down, on this side of the hall. If you lay a hand on her I'll
+live to--"
+
+"Partner, so help me heaven, I wouldn't touch a lock of her hair. Now
+lie easy while I make sure of you."
+
+And he promptly trussed the other in the bridle reins. Out of a
+pillowcase folded hard he made a gag and tied it into the mouth of the
+man. Then he ran his hands over the straps; they were drawn taut.
+
+"If you make any noise," he warned the other, "I'll come back to find
+out why. S'long."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 7
+
+
+Every moment was bringing on the dawn more swiftly, and the eyes of Andy
+were growing more accustomed to the gloom in the house. He found the
+door of the girl's room at once. When he entered he had only to pause a
+moment before he had all the details clearly in mind. Other senses than
+that of sight informed him in her room. There was in the gray gloom a
+touch of fragrance such as blows out of gardens across a road; yet here
+the air was perfectly quiet and chill. The dawn advanced. But all that
+he could make out was a faint touch of color againt the pillow--and that
+would be her hair. Then with astonishing clearness he saw her hand
+resting against her breast. Andy stood for a moment with his eyes
+closed, a great tenderness falling around him. The hush kept deepening,
+and the sense of the girl drew out to him as if a light were brightening
+about her.
+
+He stepped back to the table against the wall, took the chimney from the
+lamp, and flicked a match along his trousers, for in that way a match
+would make the least noise. Yet to the hair-trigger nerves of Andy the
+spurt and flare of the match was like the explosion of a gun. He lighted
+the lamp, turned down the wick, and replaced the chimney. Then he turned
+as though someone had shouted behind him. He whirled as he had whirled
+in the hall, crouching, and he found himself looking straight into the
+eyes of the girl as she sat up in bed.
+
+Truly he did not see her face at first, but only the fear in it, parting
+her lips and widening her eyes. She did not speak; her only movement was
+to drag up the coverlet of the bed and hold it against the base of
+her throat.
+
+Andy drew off his hat and stepped a little closer. "Do you know me?" he
+asked.
+
+He watched her as she strove to speak, but if her lips stirred they made
+no sound. It tortured him to see her terror, and yet he would not have
+had her change. This crystal pallor or a flushed joy--in one of the two
+she was most beautiful.
+
+"You saw me in Martindale," he continued. "I am the blacksmith. Do you
+remember?"
+
+She nodded, still watching him with those haunted eyes.
+
+"I saw you for the split part of a second," said Andy, "and you stopped
+my heart. I've come to see you for two minutes; I swear I mean you no
+harm. Will you let me have those two minutes for talk?" Again she
+nodded. But he could see that the terror was being tempered a little in
+her face. She was beginning to think, to wonder. It seemed a natural
+thing for Andy to go forward a pace closer to the bed, but, lest that
+should alarm her, it seemed also natural for him to drop upon one knee.
+It brought the muzzle of the revolver jarringly home against the floor.
+
+The girl heard that sound of metal and it shook her; but it requires a
+very vivid imagination to fear a man upon his knees. And now that she
+could look directly into his face, she saw that he was only a boy, not
+more than two or three years older than herself. For the first time she
+remembered the sooty figure which had stood in the door of the
+blacksmith shop. The white face against the tawny smoke of the shop;
+that had attracted her eyes before. It was the same white face now, but
+subtly changed. A force exuded from him; indeed, he seemed neither
+young nor old.
+
+She heard him speaking in a voice not louder than a whisper, rapid,
+distinct.
+
+"When you came through the town you waked me up like a whiplash," he was
+saying. "When you left I kept thinking about you. Then along came a
+trouble. I killed a man. A posse started after me. It's on my heels, but
+I had to see you again. Do you understand?"
+
+A ghost of color was going up her throat, staining her cheeks.
+
+"I had to see you," he repeated. "It's my last chance. Tomorrow they
+may get me. Two hours from now they may have me salted away with lead.
+But before I kick out I had to have one more look at you. So I swung out
+of my road and came straight to this house. I came up the stairs. I went
+into a room down the hall and made a man tell me where to find you."
+
+There was a flash in the eyes of the girl like the wink of sun on a bit
+of quartz on a far-away hillside, but it cut into the speech of Andrew
+Lanning. "He told you where to find me?" she asked in a voice no louder
+than the swift, low voice of Andy. But what a world of scorn!
+
+"He had a gun shoved into the hollow of his throat," said Andy. "He had
+to tell--two doors down the hall--"
+
+"It was Charlie!" said the girl softly. She seemed to forget her fear.
+Her head raised as she looked at Andy. "The other man--the one
+you--why--"
+
+"The man I killed doesn't matter," said Andy. "Nothing matters except
+that I've got this minute here with you."
+
+"But where will you go? How will you escape?"
+
+"I'll go to death, I guess," said Andy quietly. "But I'll have a grin
+for Satan when he lets me in. I've beat 'em, even if they catch me."
+
+The coverlet dropped from her breast; her hand was suspended with stiff
+fingers. There had been a sound as of someone stumbling on the stairway,
+the unmistakable slip of a heel and the recovery; then no more sound.
+Andy was on his feet. She saw his face whiten, and then there was a
+glitter in his eyes, and she knew that the danger was nothing to him.
+But Anne Withero whipped out of her bed.
+
+"Did you hear?"
+
+"I tied and gagged him," said Andy, "but he's broken loose, and now he's
+raising the house on the quiet."
+
+For an instant they stood listening, staring at each other.
+
+"They--they're coming up the hall," whispered the girl. "Listen!"
+
+It was no louder than a whisper from without--the creak of a board.
+Andrew Lanning slipped to the door and turned the key in the lock. When
+he rejoined her in the middle of the room he gave her the key.
+
+"Let 'em in if you want to," he said.
+
+But the girl caught his arm, whispering: "You can get out that window
+onto the top of the roof below, then a drop to the ground. But hurry
+before they think to guard that way!" "Anne!" called a voice suddenly
+from the hall.
+
+Andy threw up the window, and, turning toward the door, he laughed his
+defiance and his joy.
+
+"Hurry!" she was demanding. A great blow fell on the door of her room,
+and at once there was shouting in the hall: "Pete, run outside and watch
+the window!"
+
+"Will you go?" cried the girl desperately.
+
+He turned toward the window. He turned back like a flash and swept her
+close to him.
+
+"Do you fear me?" he whispered.
+
+"No," said the girl.
+
+"Will you remember me?"
+
+"Forever!"
+
+"God bless you," said Andy as he leaped through the window. She saw him
+take the slope of the roof with one stride; she heard the thud of his
+feet on the ground below. Then a yell from without, shrill and high
+and sharp.
+
+When the door fell with a crash, and three men were flung into the room,
+Charles Merchant saw her standing in her nightgown by the open window.
+Her head was flung back against the wall, her eyes closed, and one hand
+was pressed across her lips.
+
+"He's out the window. Down around the other way," cried Charles
+Merchant.
+
+The stampede swept out of the room. Charles was beside her.
+
+She knew that vaguely, and that he was speaking, but not until he
+touched her shoulder did she hear the words: "Anne, are you
+unhurt--has--for heaven's sake speak, Anne. What's happened?"
+
+She reached up and put his hand away.
+
+"Charles," she said, "call them back. Don't let them follow him!"
+
+"Are you mad, dear?" he asked. "That murdering--"
+
+He found a tigress in front of him. "If they hurt a hair of his head,
+Charlie, I'm through with you. I'll swear that!"
+
+It stunned Charles Merchant. And then he went stumbling from the room.
+
+His cow-punchers were out from the bunk house already; the guests and
+his father were saddling or in the saddle.
+
+"Come back!" shouted Charles Merchant. "Don't follow him. Come back! No
+guns. He's done no harm."
+
+Two men came around the corner of the house, dragging a limp figure
+between them.
+
+"Is this no harm?" they asked. "Look at Pete, and then talk."
+
+They lowered the tall, limp figure of the man in pajamas to the ground;
+his face was a crimson smear.
+
+"Is he dead?" asked Charles Merchant.
+
+"No move out of him," they answered.
+
+Other people, most of them on horseback, were pouring back to learn the
+meaning of the strange call from Charles Merchant.
+
+"I can't tell you what I mean," he was saying in explanation. "But you,
+dad, I'll be able to tell you. All I can say is that he mustn't be
+followed--unless Pete here--"
+
+The eyes of Pete opportunely opened. He looked hazily about him.
+
+"Is he gone?" asked Pete.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Thank the Lord!"
+
+"Did you see him? What's he like?"
+
+"About seven feet tall. I saw him jump off the roof of the house. I was
+right under him. Tried to get my gun on him, but he came up like a wild
+cat and went straight at me. Had his fist in my face before I could get
+my finger on the trigger. And then the earth came up and slapped me in
+the face." "There he goes!" cried some one.
+
+The sky was now of a brightness not far from day, and, turning east, in
+the direction pointed out, Charles Merchant saw a horseman ride over a
+hilltop, a black form against the coloring horizon. He was moving
+leisurely, keeping his horse at the cattle pony's lope. Presently he
+dipped away out of sight.
+
+John Merchant dropped his hand on the shoulder of his son. "What is it?"
+he asked.
+
+"Heaven knows! Not I!"
+
+"Here are more people! What's this? A night of surprise parties?"
+
+Six riders came through the trees, rushing their horses, and John
+Merchant saw Bill Dozier's well-known, lanky form in the lead. He
+brought his horse from a dead run to a halt in the space of a single
+jump and a slide. The next moment he was demanding fresh mounts.
+
+"Can you give 'em to me, Merchant? But what's all this?"
+
+"You make your little talk," said Merchant, "and then I'll make mine."
+
+"I'm after Andy Lanning. He's left a gent more dead than alive back in
+Martindale, and I want him. Can you give me fresh horses for me and my
+boys, Merchant?"
+
+"But the man wasn't dead? He wasn't dead?" cried the voice of a girl.
+The group opened; Bill Dozier found himself facing a bright-haired girl
+wrapped to the throat in a long coat, with slippers on her feet.
+
+"Not dead and not alive," he answered. "Just betwixt and between."
+
+"Thank God!" whispered the girl. "Thank God!"
+
+There was only one man in the group who should not have heard that
+whispered phrase, and that man was Charles Merchant. He was standing
+at her side.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 8
+
+
+It took less than five minutes for the deputy sheriff to mount his men;
+he himself had the pick of the corral, a dusty roan, and, as he drew the
+cinch taut, he turned to find Charles Merchant at his side.
+
+"Bill," said the young fellow, "what sort of a man is this Lanning?"
+
+"He's been a covered card, partner," said Bill Dozier. "He's been a
+covered card that seemed pretty good. Now he's in the game, and he looks
+like the rest of the Lannings--a good lump of daring and defiance. Why
+d'you ask?"
+
+"Are you keen to get him, Bill?" continued Charlie Merchant eagerly.
+
+"I could stand it. Again, why?"
+
+"You'd like a little gun play with that fellow?"
+
+"I wouldn't complain none."
+
+"Ah? One more thing. Could you use a bit of ready cash?"
+
+"I ain't pressed," said Bill Dozier. "On the other hand, I ain't of a
+savin' nature."
+
+Then he added: "Get it out, Charlie. I think I follow your drift. And
+you can go as far as you like." He put out his jaw in an ugly way as
+he said it.
+
+"It would be worth a lot to me to have this cur done for, Bill. You
+understand?"
+
+"My time's short. Talk terms, Charlie."
+
+"A thousand."
+
+"The price of a fair hoss."
+
+"Two thousand, old man."
+
+"Hoss and trimmin's."
+
+"Three thousand." "Charlie, you seem to forget that we're talkin' about
+a man and a gun."
+
+"Bill, it's worth five thousand to me."
+
+"That's turkey. Let me have your hand."
+
+They shook hands.
+
+"And if you kill the horses," said Charles Merchant, "you won't hurt my
+feelings. But get him!"
+
+"I've got nothing much on him," said Bill Dozier, "but some fools resist
+arrest."
+
+He smiled in a manner that made the other shudder. And a moment later
+the deputy led his men out on the trail.
+
+They were a weary lot by this time, but they had beneath the belt
+several shots of the Merchant whisky which Charles had distributed. And
+they had that still greater stimulus--fresh horses running smooth and
+strong beneath them. Another thing had changed. They saw their leader,
+Bill Dozier, working at his revolver and his rifle as he rode, looking
+to the charges, trying the pressure of the triggers, getting the balance
+of the weapons with a peculiar anxiety, and they knew, without a word
+being spoken, that there was small chance of that trail ending at
+anything short of a red mark in the dust.
+
+It made some of them shrug their shoulders, but here again it was proved
+that Bill Dozier knew the men of Martindale, and had picked his posse
+well. They were the common, hard-working variety of cow-puncher, and
+presently the word went among them from the man riding nearest to Bill
+that if young Lanning were taken it would be worth a hundred dollars to
+each of them. Two months' pay for two days' work. That was fair enough.
+They also began to look to their guns. It was not that a single one of
+them could have been bought for a mankilling at that or any other price,
+perhaps, but this was simply a bonus to carry them along toward what
+they considered an honest duty.
+
+Nevertheless, it was a different crew that rode over the hills away
+from the Merchant place. They had begun for the sake of the excitement.
+Now they were working carefully, riding with less abandon, jockeying
+their horses, for each man was laboring to be in on the kill.
+
+They had against them a good horse and a stanch horseman. Never had the
+pinto dodged his share of honest running, and this day was no exception.
+He gave himself whole-heartedly to his task, and he stretched the legs
+of the ponies behind him. Yet he had a great handicap. He was tough, but
+the ranch horses of John Merchant came out from a night of rest. Their
+legs were full of running. And the pinto, for all his courage, could not
+meet that handicap and beat it.
+
+That truth slowly sank in upon the mind of the fugitive as he put the
+game little cattle pony into his best stride. He tried the pinto in the
+level going. He tried him in the rough. And in both conditions the posse
+gained slowly and steadily, until it became apparent to Andrew Lanning
+that the deputy held him in the hollow of his hand, and in half an hour
+of stiff galloping could run his quarry into the ground whenever
+he chose.
+
+Andy turned in the saddle and grinned back at the followers. He could
+distinguish Bill Dozier most distinctly. The broad brim of Bill's hat
+was blown up stiffly. And the sun glinted now and again on those
+melancholy mustaches of his. Andy was puzzled. Bill had horses which
+could outrun the fugitive, and why did he not use them?
+
+Almost at once Andy received his answer.
+
+The deputy sheriff sent his horse into a hard run, and then brought him
+suddenly to a standstill. Looking back, Andy saw a rifle pitch to the
+shoulder of the deputy. It was a flashing line of light which focused
+suddenly in a single, glinting dot. That instant something hummed evilly
+beside the ear of Andy. A moment later the report came barking and
+echoing in his ear with the little metallic ring in it which tells of
+the shiver of a gun barrel.
+
+That was the beginning of a running fusillade. Technically these were
+shots fired to warn the fugitive that he was wanted by the law, and to
+tell him that if he did not halt he would be shot at to be killed. But
+the deputy did not waste warnings. He began to shoot to kill. And so did
+the rest of the posse. They saw the deputy's plan at once, and then
+grinned at it. If they rode down in a mob the boy would no doubt
+surrender. But if they goaded him in this manner from a distance he
+would probably attempt to return the fire. And if he fired one shot in
+reply, unwritten law and strong public opinion would be on the side of
+Bill Dozier in killing this criminal without quarter. In a word, the
+whisky and the little promise of money were each taking effect on
+the posse.
+
+They spurted ahead in pairs, halted, and delivered their fire; then the
+next pair spurted ahead and fired. Every moment or so two bullets winged
+through the air nearer and nearer Andy. It was really a wonder that he
+was not cleanly drilled by a bullet long before that fusillade had
+continued for ten minutes. But it is no easy thing to hit a man on a
+galloping horse when one sits on the back of another horse, and that
+horse heaving from a hard run. Moreover, Andy watched, and when the
+pairs halted he made the pinto weave.
+
+At the first bullet he felt his heart come into his throat. At the
+second he merely raised his head. At the next he smiled, and thereafter
+he greeted each volley with a yell and with a wave of his hat. It was
+like dancing, but greater fun. The cold, still terror was in his heart
+every moment, but yet he felt like laughing, and when the posse heard
+him their own hearts went cold.
+
+It disturbed their aim. They began to snarl at each other, and they also
+pressed their horses closer and closer before they even attempted to
+fire. And the result was that Andy, waving his hat, felt it twitch
+sharply in his hand, and then he saw a neat little hole clipped out of
+the very edge of the brim. It was a pretty trick to see, until Andy
+remembered that the thing which had nicked that hole would also cut its
+way through him, body and bone. He leaned over the saddle and spurred
+the pinto into his racing gait.
+
+"I nicked him!" yelled the deputy. "Come on, boys! Close in!"
+
+But within five minutes of racing, Andy drew the pinto to a sudden halt
+and raised his rifle. The posse laughed. They had been shooting for some
+time, and always for a distance even less than Andy's; yet not one of
+their bullets had gone home. So they waved their hats recklessly and
+continued to ride to be in at the death. And every one knew that the end
+of the trail was not far off when the fugitive had once begun to turn
+at bay.
+
+Andy knew it as well as the rest, and his hand shook like a nervous
+girl's, while the rifle barrel tilted up and up, the blue barrel
+shimmering wickedly. In a frenzy of eagerness he tried to line up the
+sights. It was in vain. The circle through which he squinted wobbled
+crazily. He saw two of the pursuers spurt ahead, take their posts, raise
+their rifles for a fire which would at least disturb his. For the first
+time they had a stationary target.
+
+And then, by chance, the circle of Andy's sight embraced the body of a
+horseman. Instantly the left arm, stretching out to support his rifle,
+became a rock; the forefinger of his right hand was as steady as the
+trigger it pressed. It was like shooting at a target. He found himself
+breathing easily.
+
+It was very strange. Find a man with his sights? He could follow his
+target as though a magnetic power attracted his rifle. The weapon seemed
+to have a volition of its own. It drifted along with the canter of Bill
+Dozier. With incredible precision the little finger of iron inside the
+circle dwelt in turn on the hat of Bill Dozier, on his sandy mustaches,
+on his fluttering shirt. And Andy knew that he had the life of a man
+under the command of his forefinger.
+
+And why not? He had killed one. Why not a hundred?
+
+The punishment would be no greater. And to tempt him there was this new
+mystery, this knowledge that he could not miss. It had been vaguely
+present in his mind when he faced the crowd at Martindale, he remembered
+now. And the same merciless coldness had been in his hand when he
+pressed his gun into the throat of Charles Merchant.
+
+He turned his eyes and looked down the guns of the two men who had
+halted. Then, hardly looking at his target, he snapped his rifle back to
+his shoulder and fired. He saw Bill Dozier throw up his hands, saw his
+head rock stupidly back and forth, and then the long figure toppled to
+one side. One of the posse rushed alongside to catch his leader, but he
+missed, and Bill, slumping to the ground, was trampled underfoot.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 9
+
+
+At the same time the rifles of the two men of the posse rang, but they
+must have seen the fall of their leader, for the shots went wild, and
+Andy Lanning took off his hat and waved to them. But he did not flee
+again. He sat in his saddle with the long rifle balanced across the
+pommel while two thoughts went through his mind. One was to stay there
+and watch. The other was to slip the rifle back into the holster and
+with drawn revolver charge the five remaining members of the posse.
+These were now gathering hastily about Bill Dozier. But Andy knew their
+concern was in vain. He knew where that bullet had driven home, and Bill
+Dozier would never ride again.
+
+One by one he picked up those five figures with his eyes, fighting
+temptation. He knew that he could not miss if he fired again. In five
+shots he knew that he could drop as many men, and within him there was a
+perfect consciousness that they would not hit him when they returned
+the fire.
+
+He was not filled with exulting courage. He was cold with fear. But it
+was the sort of fear which makes a man want to fling himself from a
+great height. But, sitting there calmly in the saddle, he saw a strange
+thing--the five men raising their dead leader and turning back toward
+the direction from which they had come. Not once did they look toward
+the form of Andy Lanning. They knew what he could not know, that the
+gate of the law had been open to this man as a retreat, but the bullet
+which struck down Bill Dozier had closed the gate and thrust him out
+from mercy. He was an outlaw, a leper now. Any one who shared his
+society from this moment on would fall under the heavy hand of the law.
+
+But as for running him into the ground, they had lost their appetite for
+such fighting. They had kept up a long running fight and gained nothing;
+but a single shot from the fugitive had produced this result. They
+turned now in silence and went back, very much as dogs turn and tuck
+their tails between their legs when the wolf, which they have chased
+away from the precincts of the ranch house, feels himself once more safe
+from the hand of man and whirls with a flash of teeth. The sun gleamed
+on the barrel of Andy Lanning's rifle, and these men rode back in
+silence, feeling that they had witnessed one of those prodigies which
+were becoming fewer and fewer around Martindale--the birth of a
+desperado.
+
+Andrew watched them skulking off with the body of Bill Dozier held
+upright by a man on either side of the horse. He watched them draw off
+across the hills, still with that nervous, almost irresistible impulse
+to raise one wild, long cry and spur after them, shooting swift and
+straight over the head of the pinto. But he did not move, and now they
+dropped out of sight. And then, looking about him, Andrew Lanning felt
+how vast were those hills, how wide they stretched, and how small he
+stood among them. He was utterly alone. There was nothing but the hills
+and a sky growing pale with heat and the patches of olive-gray sagebrush
+in the distance.
+
+A great melancholy dropped upon Andy. He felt a childish weakness;
+dropping his elbows upon the pommel of the saddle, he buried his face in
+his hands. In that moment he needed desperately something to which he
+could appeal for comfort.
+
+The weakness passed slowly.
+
+He dismounted and looked his horse over carefully. The pinto had many
+good points. He had ample girth of chest at the cinches, where lung
+capacity is best measured. He had rather short forelegs, which promised
+weight-carrying power and some endurance, and he had a fine pair of
+sloping shoulders. But his croup sloped down too much, and he had a
+short neck. Andy knew perfectly well that no horse with a short neck can
+run fast for any distance. He had chosen the pinto for endurance, and
+endurance he undoubtedly had; but he would need a horse which could put
+him out of short-shooting distance, and do it quickly.
+
+There were no illusions in the mind of Andrew Lanning about what lay
+before him. Uncle Jasper had told him too many tales of his own
+experiences on the trail in enemy country.
+
+"There's three things," the old man had often said, "that a man needs
+when he's in trouble: a gun that's smooth as silk, a hoss full of
+running, and a friend."
+
+For the gun Andy had his Colt in the holster, and he knew it like his
+own mind. There were newer models and trickier weapons, but none which
+worked so smoothly under the touch of Andy. Thinking of this, he
+produced it from the holster with a flick of his fingers. The sight had
+been filed away. When he was a boy in short trousers he had learned from
+Uncle Jasper the two main articles of a gun fighter's creed--that a
+revolver must be fired by pointing, not sighting, and that there must be
+nothing about it liable to hang in the holster to delay the draw. The
+great idea was to get the gun on your man with lightning speed, and then
+fire from the hip with merely a sense of direction to guide the bullet.
+
+He had a gun, therefore, and one necessity was his. Sorely he needed a
+horse of quality as few men needed one. And he needed still more a
+friend, a haven in time of crisis, an adviser in difficulties. And
+though Andy knew that it was death to go among men, he knew also that it
+was death to do without these two things.
+
+He believed that there was one chance left to him, and that was to
+outdistance the news of the two killings by riding straight north. There
+he would stop at the first town, in some manner fill his pockets with
+money, and in some manner find both horse and friend.
+
+Andrew Lanning was both simple and credulous; but it must be remembered
+that he had led a sheltered life, comparatively speaking; he had been
+brought up between a blacksmith shop on the one hand and Uncle Jasper on
+the other, and the gaps in his knowledge of men were many and huge. The
+prime necessity now was speed to the northward. So Andy flung himself
+into the saddle and drove his horse north at the jogging, rocking lope
+of the cattle pony.
+
+He was in a shallow basin which luckily pointed in the right direction
+for him. The hills sloped down to it from either side in long fingers,
+with narrow gullies between, but as Andy passed the first of these
+pointing fingers a new thought came to him.
+
+It might be--why not?--that the posse had made only a pretense of
+withdrawing at once with the body of the dead man. Perhaps they had only
+waited until they were out of sight and had then circled swiftly around,
+leaving one man with the body. They might be waiting now at the mouth of
+any of these gullies.
+
+No sooner had the thought come to Andy than he whitened. The pinto had
+been worked hard that morning and all the night before, but now Andy
+sent the spurs home without mercy as he shot up the basin at full speed,
+with his revolver drawn, ready for a snap shot and a drop behind the far
+side of his horse.
+
+For half an hour he rode in this fashion with his heart beating at his
+teeth. And each canyon as he passed was empty, and each had some shrub,
+like a crouching man, to startle him and upraise the revolver. At
+length, with the pinto wheezing from this new effort, he drew back to an
+easier gait. But still he had a companion ceaselessly following like the
+shadow of the horse he rode. It was fear, and it would never leave him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 10
+
+
+After that forced and early rising, the rest of the house had remained
+awake, but Anne Withero was gifted with an exceptionally strong set of
+nerves. She had gone back to bed and fallen promptly into a pleasant
+sleep. And when she wakened all that happened in the night was filmed
+over and had become dreamlike. No one disturbed her rest; but when she
+went down to a late breakfast she found Charles Merchant lingering in
+the room. He had questioned her closely, and after a moment of thought
+she told him exactly what had happened, because she was perfectly aware
+that he would not believe a word of it. And she was right. He had sat
+opposite her, drumming his fingers without noise on the table, with a
+smile now and then which was tinged, she thought, with insolence.
+
+Yet he seemed oddly undisturbed. She had expected some jealous outburst,
+some keen questioning of the motives which had made her beg them not to
+pursue this man. But Charles Merchant was only interested in what the
+fellow had said and done when he talked with her. "He was just like a
+man out of a book," said the girl in conclusion, "and I'll wager that
+he's been raised on romances. He had the face for it, you know--and the
+wild look!"
+
+"A blacksmith--in Martindale--raised on romances?" Charles had said as
+he fingered his throat, which was patched with black and blue.
+
+"A blacksmith--in Martindale," she had repeated slowly. And it brought a
+new view of the affair home to her. Now that they knew from Bill Dozier
+that the victim in Martindale had been only injured, and not actually
+killed, the whole matter became rather a farce. It would be an amusing
+tale. But now, as Charles Merchant repeated the words, "blacksmith"--
+"Martindale," the new idea shocked her, the new idea of Andrew Lanning,
+for Charles had told her the name.
+
+The new thought stayed with her when she went back to her room after
+breakfast, ostensibly to read, but really to think. Remembering Andrew
+Lanning, she got past the white face and the brilliant black eyes; she
+felt, looking back, that he had shown a restraint which was something
+more than boyish. When he took her in his arms just before he fled he
+had not kissed her, though, for that matter, she had been perfectly
+ready to let him do it.
+
+That moment kept recurring to her--the beating on the door, the voices
+in the hall, the shouts, and the arms of Andrew Lanning around her, and
+his tense, desperate face close to hers. It became less dreamlike that
+moment. She began to understand that if she lived to be a hundred, she
+would never find that memory dimmer.
+
+A half-sad, half-happy smile was touching the corners of her mouth, when
+Charles Merchant knocked at her door. She gave herself one moment in
+which to banish the queer pain of knowing that she would never see this
+wild Andrew again, and then she told Charles to come in.
+
+In fact, he was already opening the door. He was calm of face, but she
+guessed an excitement beneath the surface.
+
+"I've got something to show you," he said.
+
+A great thought made her sit up in the chair; but she was afraid just
+then to stand up. "I know. The posse has reached that silly boy and
+brought him back. But I don't want to see him again. Handcuffed, and
+all that."
+
+"The posse is here, at least," said Charles noncommittally. She was
+finding something new in him. The fact that he could think and hide his
+thoughts from her was indeed very new; for, when she first met him, he
+had seemed all surface, all clean young manhood without a stain.
+
+"Do you want me to see the six brave men again?" she asked, smiling, but
+really she was prying at his mind to get a clew of the truth. "Well,
+I'll come down."
+
+And she went down the stairs with Charles Merchant beside her; he kept
+looking straight ahead, biting his lips, and this made her wonder. She
+began to hum a gay little tune, and the first bar made the man start. So
+she kept on. She was bubbling with apparent good nature when Charles,
+all gravity, opened the door of the living room.
+
+The shades were drawn. The quiet in that room was a deadly, living
+thing. And then she saw, on the sofa at one side of the place, a human
+form under a sheet.
+
+"Charles!" whispered the girl. She put out her hand and touched his
+shoulder, but she could not take her eyes off that ghastly dead thing.
+"They--they--he's dead--Andrew Lanning! Why did you bring me here?"
+
+"Take the cloth from his face," commanded Charles Merchant, and there
+was something so hard in his voice that she obeyed.
+
+The sheet came away under her touch, and she was looking into the sallow
+face of Bill Dozier. She had remembered him because of the sad
+mustaches, that morning, and his big voice.
+
+"That's what your romantic boy out of a book has done," said Charles
+Merchant. "Look at his work!"
+
+But she dropped the sheet and whirled on him.
+
+"And they left him--" she said.
+
+"Anne," said he, "are you thinking about the safety of that
+murderer--now? He's safe, but they'll get him later on; he's as good as
+dead, if that's what you want to know."
+
+"God help him!" said the girl.
+
+And going back a pace, she stood in the thick shadow, leaning against
+the wall, with one hand across her lips. It reminded Charles of the
+picture he had seen when he broke into her room after Andrew Lanning had
+escaped. And she looked now, as, then, more beautiful, more wholly to be
+desired than he had ever known her before. Yet he could neither move nor
+speak. He saw her go out of the room. Then, without stopping to replace
+the sheet, he followed.
+
+He had hoped to wipe the last thought of that vagabond blacksmith out of
+her mind with the shock of this horror. Instead, he knew now that he had
+done quite another thing. And in addition he had probably made her
+despise him for taking her to confront such a sight.
+
+All in all, Charles Merchant was exceedingly thoughtful as he closed
+the door and stepped into the hall. He ran up the stairs to her room.
+The door was closed. There was no answer to his knock, and by trying the
+knob he found that she had locked herself in. And the next moment he
+could hear her sobbing. He stood for a moment more, listening, and
+wishing Andrew Lanning dead with all his heart.
+
+Then he went down to the garage, climbed into his car, and burned up the
+road between his place and that of Hal Dozier. There was very little
+similarity between the two brothers. Bill had been tall and lean; Hal
+was compact and solid, and he had the fighting agility of a starved
+coyote. He had a smooth-shaven face as well, and a clear gray eye, which
+was known wherever men gathered in the mountain desert. There was no
+news to give him. A telephone message had already told him of the death
+of Bill Dozier.
+
+"But," said Charles Merchant, "there's one thing I can do. I can set you
+free to run down this Lanning."
+
+"How?"
+
+"You're needed on your ranch, Hal; but I want you to let me stand the
+expenses of this trip. Take your time, make sure of him, and run him
+into the ground."
+
+"My friend," said Hal Dozier, "you turn a pleasure into a real party."
+
+And Charles Merchant left, knowing that he had signed the death warrant
+of young Lanning. In all the history of the mountain desert there was a
+tale of only one man who had escaped, once Hal Dozier took his trail,
+and that man had blown out his own brains.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 11
+
+
+Far away in the western sky Andy Lanning saw a black dot that moved in
+wide circles and came up across the heavens slowly, and he knew it was a
+buzzard that scented carrion and was coming up the wind toward that
+scent. He had seen them many a time before on their gruesome trails, and
+the picture which he carried was not a pleasant one.
+
+But now the picture that drifted through his mind was still more
+horrible. It was a human body lying face downward in the sand with the
+wind ruffling in the hair and the hat rolled a few paces off and the gun
+close to the outstretched hand. He knew from Uncle Jasper that no matter
+how far the trail led, or how many years it was ridden, the end of the
+outlaw was always the same--death and the body left to the buzzards. Or
+else, in some barroom, a footfall from behind and a bullet through
+the back.
+
+The flesh of Andy crawled. It was not possible for him to relax in
+vigilance for a moment, lest danger come upon him when he least expected
+it. Perhaps, in some open space like this. He went on until the sun was
+low in the west and all the sky was rimmed with color.
+
+Dusk had come over the hills in a rush, when he saw a house half lost in
+the shadows. It was a narrow-fronted, two-storied, unpainted, lonely
+place, without sign of a porch. Here, where there was no vestige of a
+town near, and where there was no telephone, the news of the deaths of
+Bill Dozier and Buck Heath could not have come. Andy accepted the house
+as a blessing and went straight toward it.
+
+But the days of carelessness were over for Andy, and he would never
+again approach a house without searching it like a human face. He
+studied this shack as he came closer. If there were people in the
+building they did not choose to show a light.
+
+Andy went around to the rear of the house, where there was a low shed
+beside the corral, half tumbled down; but in the corral were five or six
+fine horses--wild fellows with bright eyes and the long necks of speed.
+Andy looked upon them wistfully. Not one of them but was worth the price
+of three of the pinto; but as for money there was not twenty dollars in
+the pocket of Andy.
+
+Stripping the saddle from the pinto, he put it under the shed and left
+the mustang to feed and find water in the small pasture. Then he went
+with the bridle, that immemorial sign of one who seeks hospitality in
+the West, toward the house. He was met halfway by a tall, strong man of
+middle age or more. There was no hat on his head, which was covered with
+a shock of brown hair much younger than the face beneath it. He beheld
+Andy without enthusiasm.
+
+"You figure on layin' over here for the night, stranger?" he asked.
+
+"That's it," said Andy.
+
+"I'll tell you how it is," said the big man in the tone of one who is
+willing to argue a point. "We ain't got a very big house--you see
+it--and it's pretty well filled right now. If you was to slope over the
+hills there, you'd find Gainorville inside of ten miles."
+
+Andy explained that he was at the end of a hard ride. "Ten more miles
+would kill the pinto," he said. "But if you don't mind, I'll have a bit
+of chow and then turn in out there in the shed. That won't crowd you in
+your sleeping quarters, and it'll be fine for me."
+
+The big man opened his mouth to say something more, then turned on his
+heel.
+
+"I guess we can fix you up," he said. "Come on along."
+
+At another time Andy would have lost a hand rather than accept such
+churlish hospitality, but he was in no position to choose. The pain of
+hunger was like a voice speaking in him.
+
+It was a four-room house; the rooms on the ground floor were the
+kitchen, where Andy cooked his own supper of bacon and coffee and
+flapjacks, and the combination living room, dining room, and, from the
+bunk covered with blankets on one side, bedroom. Upstairs there must
+have been two more rooms of the same size.
+
+Seated about a little kitchen table in the front room, Andy found three
+men playing an interrupted game of blackjack, which was resumed when the
+big fellow took his place before his hand. The three gave Andy a look
+and a grunt, but otherwise they paid no attention to him. And if they
+had consulted him he could have asked for no greater favor. Yet he had
+an odd hunger about seeing them. They were the last men in many a month,
+perhaps, whom he could permit to see him without a fear. He brought his
+supper into the living room and put his cup of coffee on the floor
+beside him. While he ate he watched them.
+
+They were, all in all, the least prepossessing group he had ever seen.
+The man who had brought him in was far from well favored, but he was
+handsome compared with the others. Opposite him sat a tall fellow very
+erect and stiff in his chair. A candle had recently been lighted, and it
+stood on the table near this man. It showed a wan face of excessive
+leanness. His eyes were deep under bony brows, and they alone of the
+features showed any expression as the game progressed, turning now and
+again to the other faces with glances that burned; he was winning
+steadily. A red-headed man was on his left, with his back to Andy; but
+now and again he turned, and Andy saw a heavy jowl and a skin blotched
+with great, rusty freckles. His shoulders over-flowed the back of his
+chair, which creaked whenever he moved. The man who faced the redhead
+was as light as his companion was ponderous. His voice was gentle, his
+eyes large and soft, and his profile was exceedingly handsome. But in
+the full view Andy saw nothing except a grisly, purple scar that twisted
+down beneath the right eye of the man. It drew down the lower lid of
+that eye, and it pulled the mouth of the man a bit awry, so that he
+seemed to be smiling in a smug, half-apologetic manner. In spite of his
+youth he was unquestionably the dominant spirit here. Once or twice the
+others lifted their voices in argument, and a single word from him cut
+them short. And when he raised his head, now and again, to look at Andy,
+it gave the latter a feeling that his secret was read and all his
+past known.
+
+These strange fellows had not asked his name, and neither had they
+introduced themselves, but from their table talk he gathered that the
+redhead was named Jeff, the funereal man with the bony face was Larry,
+the brown-haired one was Joe, and he of the scar and the smile was
+Henry. It occurred to Andy as odd that such rough boon companions had
+not shortened that name for convenience.
+
+They played with the most intense concentration. As the night deepened
+and the windows became black slabs Joe brought another candle and
+reenforced this light by hanging a lantern from a nail on the wall. This
+illuminated the entire room, but in a partial and dismal manner. The
+game went on. They were playing for high stakes; Andrew Lanning had
+never seen so much cash assembled at one time. They had stacks of
+unmistakable yellow gold before them--actually stacks. The winner was
+Larry. That skull-faced gentleman was fairly barricaded behind heaps of
+money. Andy estimated swiftly that there must be well over two thousand
+dollars in those stacks.
+
+He finished his supper, and, having taken the tin cup and plate out into
+the next room and cleaned them, he had no sooner come back to the door,
+on the verge of bidding them good night, then Henry invited him to sit
+down and take a hand.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 12
+
+
+He had never studied any men as he was watching these men at cards.
+Andrew Lanning had spent most of his life quite indifferent to the
+people around him, but now it was necessary to make quick and sure
+judgments. He had to read unreadable faces. He had to guess motives. He
+had to sense the coming of danger before it showed its face. And,
+watching them with close intentness, he understood that at least three
+of them were cheating at every opportunity. Henry, alone, was playing a
+square game; as for the heavy winner, Larry, Andrew had reason to
+believe that he was adroitly palming an ace now and then--luck ran too
+consistently his way. For his own part, he was no card expert, and he
+smiled as Henry made his offer.
+
+"I've got eleven dollars and fifty cents in my pocket," Andrew said
+frankly. "I won't sit in at that game."
+
+"Then the game is three-handed," said Henry as he got up from his chair.
+"I've fed you boys enough," he continued in his soft voice. "I know a
+three-handed game is no good, but I'm through. Unless you'll try a round
+or two with 'em, stranger? They've made enough money. Maybe they'll play
+for silver for the fun of it, eh, boys?"
+
+There was no enthusiastic assent. The three looked gravely at a victim
+with eleven dollars and fifty cents, the chair of Big Jeff creaking
+noisily as he turned. "Sit in," said Jeff. He made a brief gesture, like
+one wiping an obstacle out of the way. "Alright," nodded Andy, for the
+thing began to excite him. He turned to Henry. "Suppose you deal
+for us?"
+
+The scar on Henry's face changed color, and his habitual smile
+broadened. "Well!" exclaimed Larry. "Maybe the gent don't like the way
+we been runnin' this game in other ways. Maybe he's got a few more
+suggestions to make, sittin' in? I like to be obligin'."
+
+He grinned, and the effect was ghastly.
+
+"Thanks," said Andy. "That lets me out as far as suggestions go." He
+paused with his hand on the back of the chair, and something told him
+that Larry would as soon run a knife into him as take a drink of water.
+The eyes burned up at him out of the shadow of the brows, but Andy,
+though his heart leaped, made himself meet the stare. Suddenly it
+wavered, and only then would Andy sit down. Henry had drawn up
+another chair.
+
+"That idea looks good to me," he said. "I think I shall deal." And
+forthwith, as one who may not be resisted, he swept up the cards and
+began to shuffle.
+
+The others at once lost interest. Each of them nonchalantly produced
+silver, and they began to play negligently, careless of their stakes.
+
+But to Andy, who had only played for money half a dozen times before,
+this was desperately earnest. He kept to a conservative game, and slowly
+but surely he saw his silver being converted into gold. Only Larry
+noticed his gains--the others were indifferent to it, but the
+skull-faced man tightened his lips as he saw. Suddenly he began betting
+in gold, ten dollars for each card he drew. The others were out of that
+hand. Andy, breathless, for he had an ace down, saw a three and a two
+fall--took the long chance, and, with the luck behind him, watched a
+five-spot flutter down to join his draw. Yet Larry, taking the same
+draw, was not busted. He had a pair of deuces and a four. There he
+stuck, and it stood to reason that he could not win. Yet he bet
+recklessly, raising Andy twice, until the latter had no more money on
+the table to call a higher bet. The showdown revealed an ace under cover
+for Larry also. Now he leaned across the table, smiling at Andrew.
+
+"I like the hand you show," said Larry, "but I don't like your face
+behind it, my friend."
+
+His smile went out; his hand jerked back; and then the lean, small hand
+of Henry shot out and fastened on the tall man's wrist. "You skunk!"
+said Henry. "D'you want to get the kid for that beggarly mess? Bah!"
+
+Andy, colorless, his blood cold, brushed aside the arm of the
+intercessor.
+
+"Partner," he said, leaning a little forward in turn, and thereby making
+his holster swing clear of the seat of his chair, "partner, I don't mind
+your words, but I don't like the way you say 'em."
+
+When he began to speak his voice was shaken; before he had finished, his
+tones rang, and he felt once more that overwhelming desire which was
+like the impulse to fling himself from a height. He had felt it before,
+when he watched the posse retreat with the body of Bill Dozier. He felt
+it now, a vast hunger, an almost blinding eagerness to see Larry make an
+incriminating move with his bony, hovering right hand. The bright eyes
+burned at him for a moment longer out of the shadow. Then, again, they
+wavered, and turned away.
+
+Andy knew that the fellow had no more stomach for a fight. Shame might
+have made him go through with the thing he started, however, had not
+Henry cut in again and given Larry a chance to withdraw gracefully.
+
+"The kid's called your bluff, Larry," he said. "And the rest of us don't
+need to see you pull any target practice. Shake hands with the kid, will
+you, and tell him you were joking!"
+
+Larry settled back in his chair with a grunt, and Henry, without a
+word, tipped back in his chair and kicked the table. Andy, beside him,
+saw the move start, and he had just time to scoop his own winnings,
+including that last rich bet, off the table top and into his pocket. As
+for the rest of the coin, it slid with a noisy jangle to the floor, and
+it turned the other three men into scrambling madmen. They scratched and
+clawed at the money, cursing volubly, and Andy, stepping back out of the
+fracas, saw the scar-faced man watching with a smile of contempt. There
+was a snarl; Jeff had Joe by the throat, and Joe was reaching for his
+gun. Henry moved forward to interfere once more, but this time he was
+not needed. A clear whistling sounded outside the house, and a moment
+later the door was kicked open. A man came in with his saddle on
+his hip.
+
+His appearance converted the threatening fight into a scene of jovial
+good nature. The money was swept up at random, as though none of them
+had the slightest care what became of it.
+
+"Havin' one of your little parties, eh?" said the stranger. "What
+started it?"
+
+"He did, Scottie," answered Larry, and, stretching out an arm of
+enormous length, he pointed at Andrew.
+
+Again it required the intervention of Henry to explain matters, and
+Scottie, with his hands on his hips, turned and surveyed Andrew with
+considering eyes. He was much different from the rest. Whereas, they had
+one and all a peculiarly unhealthy effect upon Andy, this newcomer was a
+cheery fellow, with an eye as clear as crystal, and color in his tanned
+cheeks. He had one of those long faces which invariably imply
+shrewdness, and he canted his head to one side while he watched Andy.
+"You're him that put the pinto in the corral, I guess?" he said.
+
+Andy nodded.
+
+There was no further mention of the troubles of that card game. Jeff and
+Joe and Larry were instantly busied about the kitchen and in arranging
+the table, while Scottie, after the manner of a guest, bustled about and
+accomplished little.
+
+But the eye of Andy, then and thereafter, whenever he was near the five,
+kept steadily upon the scar-faced man. Henry had tilted his chair back
+against the wall. The night had come on chill, with a rising wind that
+hummed through the cracks of the ill-built wall and tossed the flame in
+the throat of the chimney; Henry draped a coat like a cloak around his
+shoulders and buried his chin in his hands, separated from the others by
+a vast gulf. Presently Scottie was sitting at the table. The others were
+gathered around him in expectant attitudes.
+
+"What's new?" they exclaimed in one voice.
+
+"Oh, about a million things. Let me get some of this ham into my face,
+and then I'll talk. I've got a batch of newspapers yonder. There's a
+gold rush on up to Tolliver's Creek."
+
+Andy blinked, for that news was at least four weeks old. But now came a
+tide of other news, and almost all of it was stale stuff to him. But the
+men drank it in--all except Henry, silent in his corner. He was relaxed,
+as if he slept. "But the most news is about the killing of Bill Dozier."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 13
+
+
+"Ol' Bill!" grunted red-headed Jeff. "Well, I'll be hung! There's one
+good deed done. He was overdue, anyways."
+
+Andy, waiting breathlessly, watched lest the eye of the narrator should
+swing toward him for the least part of a second. But Scottie seemed
+utterly oblivious of the fact that he sat in the same room with the
+murderer. "Well, he got it," said Scottie. "And he didn't get it from
+behind. Seems there was a young gent in Martindale--all you boys know
+old Jasper Lanning?" There was an answering chorus. "Well, he's got a
+nephew, Andrew Lanning. This kid was sort of a bashful kind, they say.
+But yesterday he up and bashed a fellow in the jaw, and the man went
+down. Whacked his head on a rock, and young Lanning thought his man was
+dead. So he holds off the crowd with a gun, hops a horse, and beats it."
+
+"Pretty, pretty!" murmured Larry. "But what's that got to do with that
+hyena, Bill Dozier?"
+
+"I don't get it all hitched up straight. Most of the news come from
+Martindale to town by telephone. Seems this young Lanning was follered
+by Bill Dozier. He was always a hound for a job like that, eh?"
+
+There was a growl of assent.
+
+"He hand-picked five rough ones and went after Lanning. Chased him all
+night. Landed at John Merchant's place. The kid had dropped in there to
+call on a girl. Can you beat that for cold nerve, him figuring that he'd
+killed a man, and Bill Dozier and five more on his trail to bring him
+back to wait and see whether the buck he dropped lived or died--and then
+to slide over and call on a lady? No, you can't raise that!"
+
+But the tidings were gradually breaking in upon the mind of Andrew
+Lanning. Buck Heath had not been dead; the pursuit was simply to bring
+him back on some charge of assault; and now--Bill Dozier--the head of
+Andrew swam.
+
+"Seems he didn't know her, either. Just paid a call round about dawn and
+then rode on. Bill comes along a little later on the trail, gets new
+horses from Merchant, and runs down Lanning early this morning. Runs him
+down, and then Lanning turns in the saddle and drills Bill through the
+head at five hundred yards." Henry came to life. "How far?" he said.
+
+"That's what they got over the telephone," said Scottie apologetically.
+
+"Then the news got to Hal Dozier from Merchant's house. Hal hops on the
+wire and gets in touch with the governor, and in about ten seconds they
+make this Lanning kid an outlaw and stick a price on his head--five
+thousand, I think, and they say Merchant is behind it. The telephone was
+buzzing with it when I left town, and most of the boys were oiling up
+their gats and getting ready to make a play. Pretty easy money, eh, for
+putting the rollers under a kid?"
+
+Andrew Lanning muttered aloud: "An outlaw!"
+
+"Not the first time Bill Dozier has done it," said Henry calmly. "That's
+an old maneuver of his--to hound a man from a little crime to a
+big one."
+
+The throat of Andrew was dry. "Did you get a description of young
+Lanning?" he asked.
+
+"Sure," nodded Scottie. "Twenty-three years old, about five feet ten,
+black hair and black eyes, good looking, big shoulders, quiet spoken."
+
+Andrew made a gesture and looked carelessly out the back window, but,
+from the corner of his eyes, he was noting the five men. Not a line of
+their expressions escaped him. He was seeing, literally, with eyes in
+the back of his head; and if, by the interchange of one knowing glance,
+or by a significant silence, even, these fellows had indicated that they
+remotely guessed his identity, he would have been on his feet like a
+tiger, gun in hand, and backing for the door. Five thousand dollars!
+What would not one of these men do for that sum?
+
+Andy had been keyed to the breaking point before; but his alertness was
+now trebled, and, like a sensitive barometer, he felt the danger of
+Larry, the brute strength of Jeff, the cunning of Henry, the grave poise
+of Joe, to say nothing of Scottie--an unknown force. But Scottie was
+running on in his talk; he was telling of how he met the storekeeper in
+town; he was naming everything he saw; these fellows seemed to hunger
+for the minutest news of men. They broke into admiring laughter when
+Scottie told of his victorious tilt of jesting with the storekeeper's
+daughter; even Henry came out of his patient gloom long enough to smile
+at this, and the rest were like children. Larry was laughing so heartily
+that his eyes began to twinkle. He even invited Andrew in on the mirth.
+
+At this point Andy stood up and stretched elaborately--but in stretching
+he put his arms behind him, and stretched them down rather than up, so
+that his hands were never far from his hips.
+
+"I'll be turning in," said Andy, and stepping back to the door so that
+his face would be toward them until the last instant of his exit, he
+waved good night.
+
+There was a brief shifting of eyes toward him, and a grunt from Jeff;
+that was all. Then the eye of every one reverted to Scottie. But the
+latter broke off his narrative.
+
+"Ain't you sleepin' in?" he asked. "We could fix you a bunk upstairs, I
+guess."
+
+Once more the glance of Andrew flashed from face to face, and then he
+saw the first suspicious thing. Scottie was looking straight at Henry,
+in the corner, as though waiting for a direction, and, from the corner
+of his eye, Andrew was aware that Henry had nodded ever so slightly.
+
+"Here's something you might be interested to know," said Scottie. "This
+young Lanning was riding a pinto hoss." He added, while Andrew stood
+rooted to the spot: "You seemed sort of interested in the description. I
+allowed maybe you'd try your hand at findin' him."
+
+Andy understood perfectly that he was known, and, with his left hand
+frozen against the knob of the door, he flattened his shoulders against
+the wall and stood ready for the draw. In the crisis, at the first
+hostile move, he decided that he would dive straight for the table,
+low. It would tumble the room into darkness as the candles fell--a
+semidarkness, for there would be a sputtering lantern still.
+
+Then he would fight for his life. And looking at the others, he saw that
+they were changed, indeed. They were all facing him, and their faces
+were alive with interest; yet they made no hostile move. No doubt they
+awaited the signal of Henry; there was the greatest danger; and now
+Henry stood up.
+
+His first word was a throwing down of disguises. "Mr. Lanning," he said,
+"I think this is a time for introductions."
+
+That cold exultation, that wild impulse to throw himself into the arms
+of danger, was sweeping over Andrew. He made no gesture toward his gun,
+though his fingers were curling, but he said: "Friends, I've got you all
+in my eye. I'm going to open this door and go out. No harm to any of
+you. But if you try to stop me, it means trouble, a lot of
+trouble--quick!"
+
+Just a split second of suspense. If a foot stirred, or a hand raised,
+Andrew's curling hand would jerk up and bring out a revolver, and every
+man in the room knew it. Then the voice of Henry, "You'd plan on
+fighting us all?"
+
+"Take my bridle off the wall," said Andrew, looking straight before him
+at no face, and thereby enabled to see everything, just as a boxer looks
+in the eye of his opponent and thereby sees every move of his gloves.
+"Take my bridle off the wall, you, Jeff, and throw it at my feet."
+
+The bridle rattled at his feet.
+
+"This has gone far enough," said Henry. "Lanning, you've got the wrong
+idea. I'm going ahead with the introductions. The red-headed fellow we
+call Jeff is better known to the public as Jeff Rankin. Does that mean
+anything to you?" Jeff Rankin acknowledged the introduction with a broad
+grin, the corners of his mouth being lost in the heavy fold of his
+jowls. "I see it doesn't," went on Henry. "Very well. Joe's name is Joe
+Clune. Yonder sits Scottie Macdougal. There is Larry la Roche. And I am
+Henry Allister."
+
+The edge of Andrew's alertness was suddenly dulled. The last name swept
+into his brain a wave of meaning, for of all words on the mountain
+desert there was none more familiar than Henry Allister. Scar-faced
+Allister, they called him. Of those deadly men who figured in the tales
+of Uncle Jasper, Henry Allister was the last and the most grim. A
+thousand stories clustered about him: of how he killed Watkins; of how
+Langley, the famous Federal marshal, trailed him for five years and was
+finally killed in the duel which left Allister with that scar; of how he
+broke jail at Garrisonville and again at St. Luke City. In the
+imagination of Andrew he had loomed like a giant, some seven-foot
+prodigy, whiskered, savage of eye, terrible of voice. And, turning
+toward him, Andrew saw him in profile with the scar obscured--and his
+face was of almost feminine refinement.
+
+Five thousand dollars?
+
+A dozen rich men in the mountain desert would each pay more than that
+for the apprehension of Allister, dead or alive. And bitterly it came
+over Andrew that this genius of crime, this heartless murderer as story
+depicted him, was no danger to him but almost a friend. And the other
+four ruffians of Allister's band were smiling cordially at him, enjoying
+his astonishment. The day before his hair would have turned white in
+such a place among such men; tonight they were his friends.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 14
+
+
+After that things happened to Andrew in a swirl. They were shaking hands
+with him. They were congratulating him on the killing of Bill Dozier.
+They were patting him on the back. Larry la Roche, who had been so
+hostile, now stood up to the full of his ungainly height and proposed
+his health. And the other men drank it standing. Andy received a tin cup
+half full of whisky, and he drank the burning stuff in acknowledgment.
+The unaccustomed drink went to his head, his muscles began to relax, his
+eyes swam. Voices boomed at him out of a haze. "Why, he's only a young
+kid. One shot put him under the weather."
+
+"Shut up, Larry. He'll learn fast enough."
+
+"Ah, yes," said Larry to himself, "he'll learn fast enough!"
+
+Presently he was lifted and carried by strong arms up a creaking stairs.
+He looked up, and he saw the red hair of the mighty Jeff, who carried
+him as if he had been a child, and deposited him among some blankets.
+
+"I didn't know," Larry la Roche was saying. "How could I tell a
+man-killer like him couldn't stand no more than a girl?"
+
+"Shut up and get out," said another voice. Heavy footsteps retreated,
+then Andrew heard them once more grumbling and booming below him.
+
+After that his head cleared rapidly. Two windows were open in this
+higher room, and a sharp current of the night wind blew across him,
+clearing his mind as rapidly as wind blows away a fog. Now he made out
+that one man had not left him; the dark outline of him was by the
+bed, waiting.
+
+"Who's there?" asked Andrew. "Allister. Take it easy."
+
+"I'm all right. I'll go down again to the boys."
+
+"That's what I'm here to talk to you about, kid. Are you sure your
+head's clear?"
+
+"Yep. Sure thing."
+
+"Then listen to me, Lanning, while I talk. It's important. Stay here
+till the morning, then ride on."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"Oh, away from Martindale, that's all."
+
+"Out of the desert? Out of the mountains?"
+
+"Of course. They'll hunt for you here." Allister paused, then went on.
+"And when you get away what'll you do? Go straight?"
+
+"God willing," said Andrew fervently. "It--it was only luck, bad luck,
+that put me where I am."
+
+The outlaw scratched a match and lighted a candle; then he dropped a
+little of the melted tallow on a box, and by that light he peered
+earnestly into Andrew's face. He appeared to need this light to read the
+expression on it. It also enabled Andrew to see the face of Allister.
+Sometimes the play of shadows made that face unreal as a dream,
+sometimes the face was filled with poetic beauty, sometimes the light
+gleamed on the scar and the sardonic smile, and then it was a face
+out of hell.
+
+"You're going to get away from the mountain desert and go straight,"
+said Allister.
+
+"That's it." He saw that the outlaw was staring with a smile, half grim
+and half sad, into the shadows and far away.
+
+"Lanning, let me tell you. You'll never get away."
+
+"You don't understand," said Andrew. "I don't like fighting. It--it
+makes me sick inside. I'm not a brave man!"
+
+He waited to see the contempt come on the face of the famous leader, but
+there was nothing but grave attention.
+
+"Why," Andy went on in a rush of confidence, "everybody in Martindale
+knows that I'm not a fighter. Those fellows downstairs think that I'm a
+sort of bad hombre. I'm not. Why, Allister, when I turned over Buck
+Heath and saw his face, I nearly fainted, and then--"
+
+"Wait," cut in the other. "That was your first man. You didn't kill him,
+but you thought you had. You nearly fainted, then. But as I gather it,
+after you shot Bill Dozier you simply sat on your horse and waited. Did
+you feel like fainting then?"
+
+"No," explained Andrew hastily. "I wanted to go after them and shoot'em
+all. They could have rushed me and taken me prisoner easily, but they
+wanted to shoot me from a distance--and it made me mad to see them work
+it. I--I hated them all, and I had a reason for it. Curse them!"
+
+He added hurriedly: "But I've no grudge against anybody. All I want is a
+chance to live quiet and clean."
+
+There was a faint sigh from Allister.
+
+"Lanning," he murmured, "the minute I laid eyes on you, I knew you were
+one of my kind. In all my life I've known only one other with that same
+chilly effect in his eyes--that was Marshal Langley--only he happened to
+be on the side of the law. No matter. He had the iron dust in him. He
+was cut out to be a man-killer. You say you want to get away: Lanning,
+you can't do it. Because you can't get away from yourself. I'm making a
+long talk to you, but you're worth it. I tell you I read your mind. You
+plan on riding north and getting out of the mountain desert before the
+countryside there is raised against you, the way it's raised to the
+south. In the first place, I don't think you'll get away. Hal Dozier is
+on your trail, and he'll get to the north and raise the whole district
+and stop you before you hit the towns. You'll have to go back to the
+mountain desert. You'll have to do it eventually, why not do it now?
+Lanning, if I had you at my back I could laugh at the law the rest of
+our lives! Stay with me. I can tell a man when I see him. I saw you call
+Larry la Roche. And I've never wanted a man the way I want you. Not to
+follow me, but as a partner. Shake and say you will!"
+
+The slender hand was stretched out through the shadows, the light from
+the candle flashed on it. And a power outside his own will made Andrew
+move his hand to meet it. He stopped the gesture with a violent effort.
+
+The swift voice of the outlaw, with a fiber of earnest persuasion in it,
+went on: "You see what I risk to get you. Hal Dozier is on your trail.
+He's the only man in the world I'd think twice about before I met him
+face to face. But if I join to you, I'll have to meet him sooner or
+later. Well, Lanning, I'll take that risk. I know he's more devil than
+man when it comes to gun play, but we'll meet him together. Give me
+your hand!"
+
+There was a riot in the brain of Andrew Lanning. The words of the outlaw
+had struck something in him that was like metal chiming on metal. Iron
+dust? That was it! The call of one blood to another, and he realized the
+truth of what Allister said. If he touched the hand of this man, there
+would be a bond between them which only death could break. In one
+blinding rush he sensed the strength and the faith of Allister.
+
+But another voice was at his ear, and he saw Anne Withero, as she had
+stood for that moment in his arms in her room. It came over him with a
+chill like cold moonlight.
+
+"Do you fear me?" he had whispered.
+
+"No."
+
+"Will you remember me?"
+
+"Forever!"
+
+And with that ghost of a voice in his ear Andrew Lanning groaned to the
+man beside him: "Partner, I know you're nine-tenths man, and I thank you
+out of the bottom of my heart. But there's some one else has a claim to
+me--I don't belong to myself."
+
+There was a breathless pause. Anger contracted the face of Henry
+Allister; he nodded gravely.
+
+"It's the girl you went back to see," he said.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, then, go ahead and try to win through. I wish you luck. But if
+you fail, remember what I've said. Now, or ten years from now, what I've
+said goes for you. Now roll over and sleep. Good-by, Lanning, or,
+rather, au revoir!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 15
+
+
+The excitement kept Andrew awake for a little time, but then the hum of
+the wind, the roll of voices below him, and the weariness of the long
+ride rushed on him like a wave and washed him out into an ebb of sleep.
+
+When he wakened the aches were gone from his limbs, and his mind was a
+happy blank. Only when he started up from his blankets and rapped his
+head against the slanting rafters just above him, he was brought to a
+painful realization of where he was. He turned, scowling, and the first
+thing he saw was a piece of brown wrapping paper held down by a shoe and
+covered with a clumsy scrawl.
+
+  These blankets are yours and the slicker along with
+  them and heres wishin you luck while youre beatin it
+  back to civlizashun. your friend, JEFF RANKIN.
+
+Andy glanced swiftly about the room and saw that the other bunks had
+been removed. He swept up the blankets and went down the stairs to the
+first floor. The house reeked of emptiness; broken bottles, a twisted
+tin plate in which some one had set his heel, were the last signs of the
+outlaws of Henry Allister's gang. A bundle stood on the table with
+another piece of the wrapping paper near it. The name of Andrew Lanning
+was on the outside. He unfolded the sheet and read in a precise, rather
+feminine writing:
+
+  Dear Lanning: We are, in a manner, sneaking off.
+  I've already said good-by, and I don't want to tempt
+  you again. Now you're by yourself and you've got your
+  own way to fight. The boys agree with me. We all want
+  to see you make good. We'll all be sorry if you come
+  back to us. But once you've found out that it's no go
+  trying to beat back to good society, we'll be mighty
+  happy to have you with us. In the meantime, we want
+  to do our bit to help Andrew Lanning make up for his
+  bad luck.
+
+  For my part, I've put a chamois sack on top of the
+  leather coat with the fur lining. You'll find a little
+  money in that purse. Don't be foolish. Take the money
+  I leave you, and, when you're back on your feet, I know
+  that you'll repay it at your own leisure.
+
+  And here's best luck to you and the girl.
+
+  HENRY ALLISTER.
+
+Andrew lifted the chamois sack carelessly, and out of its mouth tumbled
+a stream of gold. One by one he picked up the pieces and replaced them;
+he hesitated, and then put the sack in his pocket. How could he refuse a
+gift so delicately made?
+
+A broken kitchen knife had been thrust through a bit of the paper on the
+box. He read this next:
+
+  Your hoss is known. So I'm leaving you one in place
+  of the pinto. He goes good and he dont need no spurring
+  but when you come behind him keep watching
+  your step. your pal, LARRY LA ROCHE.
+
+Blankets and slicker, money, horse. A flask of whisky stood on another
+slip of the paper. And the writing on this was much more legible.
+
+  Here's a friend in need. When you come to a pinch,
+  use it. And when you come to a bigger pinch send word
+  to your friend, SCOTTIE MACDOUGAL.
+
+Andrew picked it up, set it down again, and smiled. On the fur coat
+there was a fifth tag. Not one of the five, then, had forgotten him.
+
+  Its comin on cold, partner. Take this coat and welcome.
+  When the snows get on the mountains if you
+  aint out of the desert put on this coat and think of your
+  partner,                                      JOE CLUNE.
+
+  P.S.--I seen you first, and I have first call on you over
+  the rest of these gents and you can figure that you have
+  first call on me.                                 J.C.
+
+When he had read all these little letters, when he had gathered his loot
+before him, Andrew lifted his head and could have burst into song. This
+much thieves and murderers had done for him; what would the good men of
+the world do? How would they meet him halfway?
+
+He went into the kitchen. They had forgotten nothing. There was a
+quantity of "chuck," flour, bacon, salt, coffee, a frying pan, a cup,
+a canteen.
+
+It brought a lump in his throat. He cast open the back door, and,
+standing in the little pasture, he saw only one horse remaining. It was
+a fine, young chestnut gelding with a Roman nose and long, mulish ears.
+His head was not beautiful to see from any angle, but every detail of
+the body spelled speed, and speed meant safety.
+
+What wonder, then, that Andrew began to see the world through a bright
+mist? What wonder that when he had finished his breakfast he sang while
+he roped the chestnut, built the pack behind the saddle, and filled the
+saddlebags. When he was in the saddle, the gelding took at once the
+cattle path with a long and easy canter.
+
+With his head cleared by sleep, his muscles and nerves relaxed, Andrew
+began to plan his escape with more calm deliberation than before.
+
+The first goal was the big blue cloud on the northern horizon--a good
+week's journey ahead of him--the Little Canover Mountains. Among the
+foothills lay the cordon of small towns which it would be his chief
+difficulty to pass. For, if the printed notices describing him were
+circulated among them, the countryside would be up in arms, prepared to
+intercept his flight. Otherwise, there would be nothing but telephoned
+and telegraphed descriptions of him, which, at best, could only come to
+the ears of a few, and these few would be necessarily put out by the
+slightest difference between him and the description. Such a vital
+difference, for instance, as the fact that he now rode a chestnut, while
+the instructions called for a man on a pinto.
+
+Moreover, it was by no means certain that Hal Dozier, great trailer
+though he was, would know that the fugitive was making for the northern
+mountains. With all these things in mind, in spite of the pessimism of
+Henry Allister, Andrew felt that he had far more than a fighting chance
+to break out of the mountain desert and into the comparative safety of
+the crowded country beyond.
+
+He made one mistake in the beginning. He pushed the chestnut too hard
+the first and second days, so that on the third day he was forced to
+give the gelding his head and go at a jarring trot most of the day. On
+the fourth and fifth days, however, he had the reward for his caution.
+The chestnut's ribs were beginning to show painfully, but he kept
+doggedly at his work with no sign of faltering. The sixth day brought
+Andrew Lanning in close view of the lower hills. And on the seventh day
+he put his fortune boldly to the touch and jogged into the first little
+town before him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 16
+
+
+It was just after the hot hour of the afternoon. The shadows from the
+hills to the west were beginning to drop across the village; people who
+had kept to their houses during the early afternoon now appeared on
+their porches. Small boys and girls, returning from school, were
+beginning to play. Their mothers were at the open doors exchanging
+shouted pieces of news and greetings, and Andrew picked his way with
+care along the street. It was a town flung down in the throat of a
+ravine without care or pattern. There was not even one street, but
+rather a collection of straggling paths which met about a sort of open
+square, on the sides of which were the stores and the inevitable saloons
+and hotel.
+
+But the narrow path along which Andrew rode was a gantlet to him. For
+all he knew, the placards might be already out, one of the least of
+those he passed might have recognized him. He noticed that one or two
+women, in their front door, stopped in the midst of a word to watch him
+curiously. It seemed to Andrew that a buzz of comment and warning
+preceded him and closed behind him. He felt sure that the children stood
+and gaped at him from behind, but he dared not turn in his saddle to
+look back.
+
+And he kept on, reining in the gelding, and probing every face with one
+swift, resistless glance that went to the heart. He found himself
+literally taking the brains and hearts of men into the palm of his hand
+and weighing them. Yonder old man, so quiet, with the bony fingers
+clasped around the bowl of his corncob, sitting under the awning by the
+watering trough--that would be an ill man to cross in a pinch--that hand
+would be steady as a rock on the barrel of a gun. But the big, square
+man with the big, square face who talked so loudly on the porch of
+yonder store--there was a bag of wind that could be punctured by one
+threat and turned into a figure of tallow by the sight of a gun.
+
+Andrew went on with his lightning summary of the things he passed. But
+when he came to the main square, the heart of the town, it was quite
+empty. He went across to the hotel, tied the gelding at the rack, and
+sat down on the veranda. He wanted with all his might to go inside, to
+get a room, to be alone and away from this battery of searching eyes.
+But he dared not. He must mingle with these people and learn what
+they knew.
+
+He went in and sought the bar. It should be there, if anywhere, the
+poster with the announcement of Andrew Lanning's outlawry and the
+picture of him. What picture would they take? The old snapshot of the
+year before, which Jasper had taken? No doubt that would be the one. But
+much as he yearned to do so, he dared not search the wall. He stood up
+to the bar and faced the bartender. The latter favored him with one
+searching glance, and then pushed across the whisky bottle.
+
+"Do you know me?" asked Andrew with surprise. And then he could have
+cursed his careless tongue.
+
+"I know you need a drink," said the bartender, looking at Andrew again.
+Suddenly he grinned. "When a man's been dry that long he gets a hungry
+look around the eyes that I know. Hit her hard, boy."
+
+Andrew brimmed his glass and tossed off the drink. And to his
+astonishment there was none of the shocking effect of his first drink
+of whisky. It was like a drop of water tossed on a huge blotter. To his
+tired nerves the alcohol was a mere nothing. Besides, he dared not let
+it affect him. He filled a second glass, pushing across the bar one of
+the gold pieces of Henry Allister. Then, turning casually, he glanced
+along the wall. There were other notices up--many written ones--but not
+a single face looked back at him. All at once he grew weak with relief.
+But in the meantime he must talk to this fellow.
+
+"What's the news?"
+
+"What kind of news?"
+
+"Any kind. I've been talkin' more to coyotes than to men for a long
+spell."
+
+Should he have said that? Was not that a suspicious speech? Did it not
+expose him utterly?
+
+"Nothin' to talk about here much more excitin' than a coyote's yap. Not
+a damn thing. Which way you come from?"
+
+"South. The last I heard of excitin' news was this stuff about Lanning,
+the outlaw."
+
+It was out, and he was glad of it. He had taken the bull by the horns.
+
+"Lanning? Lanning? Never heard of him. Oh, yes, the gent that bumped off
+Bill Dozier. Between you and me, they won't be any sobbin' for that.
+Bill had it comin'. But they've outlawed Lanning, have they?"
+
+"That's what I hear."
+
+But sweet beyond words had been this speech from the bartender. They had
+barely heard of Andrew Lanning in this town; they did not even know that
+he was outlawed. Andrew felt hysterical laughter bubbling in his throat.
+Now for one long sleep; then he would make the ride across the mountains
+and into safety.
+
+He went out of the barroom, put the gelding away in the stables behind
+the hotel, and got a room. In ten minutes, pausing only to tear the
+boots from his feet, he was sound asleep under the very gates
+of freedom.
+
+And while he slept the gates were closing and barring the way. If he had
+wakened even an hour sooner, all would have been well and, though he
+might have dusted the skirts of danger, they could never have blocked
+his way. But, with seven days of exhausting travel behind him, he slept
+like one drugged, the clock around and more. It was morning,
+mid-morning, when he wakened.
+
+Even then he was too late, but he wasted priceless minutes eating his
+breakfast, for it was delightful beyond words to have food served to him
+which he had not cooked with his own hands. And so, sauntering out onto
+the veranda of the hotel, he saw a compact crowd on the other side of
+the square and the crowd focused on a man who was tacking up a sign.
+Andrew, still sauntering, joined the crowd, and looking over their
+heads, he found his own face staring back at him; and, under the picture
+of that lean, serious face, in huge black type, five thousand dollars
+reward for the capture, dead or alive--
+
+The rest of the notice blurred before his eyes.
+
+Some one was speaking. "You made a quick trip, Mr. Dozier, and I expect
+if you send word up to Hallowell in the mountains they can--"
+
+So Hal Dozier had brought the notices himself.
+
+Andrew, in that moment, became perfectly calm. He went back to the
+hotel, and, resting one elbow on the desk, he looked calmly into the
+face of the clerk and the proprietor. Instantly he saw that the men did
+not suspect--as yet.
+
+"I hear Mr. Dozier's here?" he asked.
+
+"Room seventeen," said the clerk. "Hold on. He's out in the square now."
+
+"'S all right. I'll wait in his room." He went to room seventeen. The
+door was unlocked. And drawing a chair into the farthest corner, Andrew
+sat down, rolled a cigarette, drew his revolver, and waited.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 17
+
+
+He waited an eternity; in actual time it was exactly ten minutes. Then a
+cavalcade tramped down the hall. He heard their voices, and Hal Dozier
+was among them. About him flowed a babble of questions as the men
+struggled for the honor of a word from the great man. Perhaps he was
+coming to his room to form the posse and issue general instructions for
+the chase.
+
+The door opened. Dozier entered, jerked his head squarely to one side,
+and found himself gazing into the muzzle of a revolver. The astonishment
+and the swift hardening of his face had begun and ended in a fraction
+of a second.
+
+"It's you, eh?" he said, still holding the door.
+
+"Right," said Andrew. "I'm here for a little chat about this Lanning
+you're after."
+
+Hal Dozier paused another heartbreaking second, then he saw that caution
+was the better way. "I'll have to shut you out for a minute or two,
+boys. Go down to the bar and have a few on me." He turned, laughing and
+waving to them. Then the door closed, and Dozier turned slowly to face
+his hunted man. Into Andrew's mind came back the words of the great
+outlaw, Allister: "There's one man I'd think twice about meeting,
+and that--"
+
+"Sit down," said Andrew. "And you can take off your belt if you want to.
+Easy! That's it. Thank you."
+
+The belt and the guns were tossed onto the bed, and Hal Dozier sat
+down. He reminded Andrew of a terrier, not heavy, but all compact nerve
+and fighting force.
+
+"I'll not frisk you for another gun," said Andrew.
+
+"Thanks; I have one, but I'll let it lie."
+
+He made a movement. "If you don't mind," said Andrew, "I'd rather that
+you don't reach into your pockets. Use my tobacco and papers, if you
+wish." He tossed them onto the table, and Hal Dozier rolled his smoke in
+silence. Then he tilted back in his chair a little. His hand with the
+cigarette was as steady as a vise, and Andrew, shrugging forward his own
+ponderous shoulders, dropped his elbows on his knees and trained the gun
+full on his companion.
+
+"I've come to make a bargain, Dozier," he said.
+
+The other made no comment, and the two continued that silent struggle of
+the eyes that was making Andrew's throat dry and his heart leap.
+
+"Here's the bargain: Drop off this trail. Let the law take its own
+course through other hands, but you give me your word to keep off the
+trail. If you'll do that I'll leave this country and stay away. Except
+for one thing, I'll never come back here. You're a proud man; you've
+never quit a trail yet before the end of it. But this time I only ask
+you to let it go with running me out of the country."
+
+"What's the one thing for which you'd come back?"
+
+"I'll come back--once--because of a girl."
+
+He saw the eyes of Dozier widen and then contract again. "You're not
+exactly what I expected to find," he said. "But go on. If I don't take
+the bargain you pull that trigger?"
+
+"Exactly."
+
+"H'm! You may have heard the voices of the men who came up the hall with
+me?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"The moment a report of a gun is heard they'll swarm up to this room and
+get you."
+
+"They made too much noise. Barking dogs don't bite. Besides, the moment
+I've dropped you I go out that window."
+
+"It's a good bluff, Lanning," said the other. "I'll tell you what, if
+you were what I expected you to be, a hysterical kid, who had a bit of
+bad luck and good rolled together, I'd take that offer. But you're
+different--you're a man. All in all, Lanning, I think you're about as
+much of a man as I've ever crossed before. No, you won't pull that
+trigger, because there isn't one deliberate murder packed away in your
+system. It's a good bluff, as I said before, and I admire the way you
+worked it. But it won't do. I call it. I won't leave your trail,
+Lanning. Now pull your trigger."
+
+He smiled straight into the eye of the younger man. A flush jumped into
+the cheeks of Andrew, and, fading, left him by contrast paler than ever.
+"You were one-quarter of an inch from death, Dozier," he replied.
+
+"Lanning, with men like you--and like myself, I hope--there's no
+question of distance. It's either a miss or a hit. Here's a better
+proposition: Let me put my belt on again. Then put your own gun back in
+the holster. We'll turn and face the wall. And when the clock downstairs
+strikes ten--that'll be within a few minutes--we'll turn and blaze at
+the first sound."
+
+He watched his companion eagerly, and he saw the face of Andrew work. "I
+can't do it, Dozier," said Andrew. "I'd like to. But I can't!"
+
+"Why not?" The voice of Hal Dozier was sharp with a new suspicion. "Get
+me out of the way, and you're free to get across the mountains, and,
+once there, your trail will never be found. I know that; every one knows
+that. That's why I hit up here after you."
+
+"I'll tell you why," said Andrew slowly. "I've got the blood of one man
+on my hands already, but, so help me God, I'm not going to have another
+stain. I had to shoot once, because I was hounded into it. And, if this
+thing keeps on, I'm going to shoot again--and again. But as long as I
+can I'm fighting to keep clean, you understand?"
+
+His voice became thin and rose as he spoke; his breath was a series of
+gasps, and Hal Dozier changed color.
+
+"I think," said Andrew, regaining his self-control, "that I'd kill you.
+I think I'm just a split second surer and faster than you are with a
+gun. But don't you see, Dozier?"
+
+He cast out his left hand, but his right hand held the revolver like a
+rock.
+
+"Don't you see? I've got the taint in me. I've killed my man. If I kill
+another I'll go bad. I know it. Life will mean nothing to me. I can feel
+it in me."
+
+His voice fell and became deeper.
+
+"Dozier, give me my chance. It's up to you. Stand aside now, and I'll
+get across those mountains and become a decent man. Keep me here, and
+I'll be a killer. I know it; you know it. Why are you after me? Because
+your brother was killed by me. Dozier, think of your brother and then
+look at me. Was his life worth my life? You're a cool-headed man. You
+knew him, and you knew what he was worth. His killings were as long as
+the worst bad man that ever stepped, except that he had the law behind
+him. When he got on my trail he knew that I was just a scared kid who
+thought he'd killed a man. Why didn't he let me run until I found out
+that I hadn't killed Buck Heath? Then he knew, and you know, that I'd
+have come back. But he wouldn't give me the chance. He ran me into the
+ground, and I shot him down. And that minute he turned me from a scared
+kid into an outlaw--a killer. Tell me, man to man, Dozier, if Bill
+hasn't already done me more wrong than I've done him!"
+
+As he finished that strange appeal he noted that the famous fighter was
+white about the mouth and shaken. He added with a burst of appeal: "Hal,
+you know I'm straight. You know I'm worth a chance."
+
+The older man lifted his head at last. "Andy, I can't leave the trail."
+
+At that sentence every muscle of Andrew's body relaxed, and he sat like
+one in a state of collapse, except that the right hand and the gun in it
+were steady as rocks.
+
+"Here's something between you and me that I'd swear I never said if I
+was called in a court," went on Hal Dozier in a solemn murmur. "I'll
+tell you that I know Bill was no good. I've known it for years, and I've
+told him so. It's Bill that bled me, and bled me until I've had to soak
+a mortgage on the ranch. It's Bill that's spent the money on his cussed
+booze and gambling. Until now there's a man that can squeeze and ruin me
+any day, and that's Merchant. He sent me hot along this trail. He sent
+me, but my pride sent me also. No, son, I wasn't bought altogether. And
+if I'd known as much about you then as I know now, I'd never have
+started to hound you. But now I've started. Everybody in the mountains,
+every puncher on the range knows that Hal Dozier has started on a new
+trail, and every man of them knows that I've never failed before. Andy,
+I can't give it up. You see, I've got no shame before you. I tell you
+the straight of it. I tell you that I'm a bought man. But I can't leave
+this trail to go back and face the boys. If one of them was to shake his
+head and say on the side that I'm no longer the man I used to be, I'd
+shoot him dead as sure as there's a reckoning that I'm bound for. It
+isn't you, Andy; it's my reputation that makes me go on."
+
+He stopped, and the two men looked sadly at each other.
+
+"Andy, boy," said Hal Dozier, "I've no more bad feeling toward you than
+if you was my own boy." Then he added with a little ring to his voice:
+"But I'm going to stay on your trail till I kill you. You write that
+down in red."
+
+And the outlaw dropped his gun suddenly into the holster. "That ends
+it, then," he said slowly. "The next time we meet we won't sit down and
+chin friendly like. We'll let our guns do our talking for us. And, first
+of all, I'm going to get across these mountains, Hal, in spite of you
+and your friends."
+
+"You can't do it, Andy. Try it. I've sent the word up. The whole
+mountains will be alive watchin' for you. Every trail will be alive
+with guns."
+
+But Andrew stood up, and, using always his left hand while the right arm
+hung with apparent carelessness at his side, he arranged his hat so that
+it came forward at a jaunty angle, and then hitched his belt around so
+that the holster hung a little more to the rear. The position for a gun
+when one is sitting is quite different from the proper position when one
+is standing. All these things Uncle Jasper had taught Andrew long and
+long before. He was remembering them in chunks.
+
+"Give me three minutes to get my saddle on my horse and out of town,"
+said Andrew. "Is that fair?"
+
+"Considering that you could have filled me full of lead here," said Hal
+Dozier, with a wry smile, "I think that's fair enough."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 18
+
+
+As Andrew went down the stairs and through the entrance hall he noticed
+it was filled with armed men. At the door he paused for the least
+fraction of a second, and during that breathing space he had seen every
+face in the room. Then he walked carelessly across to the desk and asked
+for his bill.
+
+Someone, as he crossed the room, whirled to follow him with a glance.
+Andy heard, for his ears were sharpened: "I thought for a minute--But it
+does look like him!"
+
+"Aw, Mike, I seen that gent in the barroom the other day. Besides, he's
+just a kid."
+
+"So's this Lanning. I'm going out to look at the poster again. You hold
+this gent here."
+
+"All right. I'll talk to him while you're gone. But be quick. I'll be
+holdin' a laugh for you, Mike."
+
+Andrew paid his bill, but as he reached the door a short man with legs
+bowed by a life in the saddle waddled out to him and said: "Just a
+minute, partner. Are you one of us?"
+
+"One of who?" asked Andrew.
+
+"One of the posse Hal is getting together? Well, come to think of it, I
+guess you're a stranger around here, ain't you?"
+
+"Me?" asked Andrew. "Why, I've just been talking to Hal."
+
+"About young Lanning?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"By the way, if you're out of Hal's country, maybe you know Lanning,
+too?"
+
+"Sure. I've stood as close to him as I am to you."
+
+"You don't say so! What sort of a looking fellow is he?"
+
+"Well, I'll tell you," said Andrew, and he smiled in an embarrassed
+manner. "They say he's a ringer for me. Not much of a compliment,
+is it?"
+
+The other gasped, and then laughed heartily. "No, it ain't, at that," he
+replied. "Say, I got a pal that wants to talk to you. Sort of a job on
+him, at that."
+
+"I'll tell you what," said Andy calmly. "Take him in to the bar, and
+I'll come in and have a drink with him and you in about two
+minutes. S'long."
+
+He was gone through the door while the other half reached a hand toward
+him. But that was all.
+
+In the stables he had the saddle on the chestnut in twenty seconds, and
+brought him to the watering trough before the barroom.
+
+He found his short, bow-legged friend in the barroom in the midst of
+excited talk with a big, blond man. He looked a German, with his parted
+beard and his imposing front and he had the stern blue eye of a fighter.
+"Is this your friend?" asked Andrew, and walked straight up to them. He
+watched the eyes of the big man expand and then narrow; his hand even
+fumbled at his hip, but then he shook his head. He was too bewildered
+to act.
+
+At that moment there was an uproar from the upper part of the hotel.
+With a casual wave of his hand, Andy wandered out of the barroom and
+then raced for the street. He heard men shouting in the lobby.
+
+A fighting mass jammed its way into the open, and there, in the middle
+of the square, sat Hal Dozier on his gray stallion. He was giving orders
+in a voice that rang above the crowd, and made voices hush in whispers
+as they heard him. Under his direction the crowd split into groups of
+four and five and six and rode at full speed in three directions out of
+the town. In the meantime there were two trusted friends of Hal Dozier
+busy at telephones in the hotel. They were calling little towns among
+the mountains. The red alarm was spreading like wildfire, and faster
+than the fastest horse could gallop.
+
+But Andrew, with the chestnut running like a red flash beneath him, had
+vanished.
+
+Buried away in the mountains, one stiff day's march, was a trapper whom
+Uncle Jasper had once befriended. That was many a day long since, but
+Uncle Jasper had saved the man's life, and he had often told Andrew
+that, sooner or later, he must come to that trapper's cabin to talk of
+the old times.
+
+He was bound there now. For, if he could get shelter for three days, the
+hue and cry would subside. When the mountaineers were certain that he
+must have gone past them to other places and slipped through their
+greedy fingers he could ride on in comparative safety. It was an
+excellent plan. It gave Andrew such a sense of safety, as he trotted the
+chestnut up a steep grade, that he did not hear another horse, coming in
+the opposite direction, until the latter was almost upon him. Then,
+coming about a sharp shoulder of the hill, he almost ran upon a
+bare-legged boy, who rode without saddle upon the back of a bay mare.
+The mare leaped catlike to one side, and her little rider clung like a
+piece of her hide. "You might holler, comin' around a turn," shrilled
+the boy. And he brought the mare to a halt by jerking the rope around
+her neck. He had no other means of guiding her, no sign of a bridle.
+
+But Andrew looked with hungry eyes. He knew something of horses, and
+this bay fitted into his dreams of an ideal perfectly. She was
+beautiful, quite heavily built in the body, with a great spread of
+breast that surely told of an honest heart beneath a glorious head, legs
+that fairly shouted to Andrew of good blood, and, above all, she had
+that indescribable thing which is to a horse what personality is to a
+man. She did not win admiration, she commanded it. And she stood alert
+at the side of the road, looking at Andrew like a queen. Horse stealing
+is the cardinal sin in the mountain desert, but Andrew felt the moment
+he saw her that she must be his. At least he would first try to buy her
+honorably.
+
+"Son," he said to the urchin, "how much for that horse?"
+
+"Why," said the boy, "anything you'll give."
+
+"Don't laugh at me," said Andrew sternly. "I like her looks and I'll buy
+her. I'll trade this chestnut--and he's a fine traveler--with a good
+price to boot. If your father lives up the road and not down, turn back
+with me and I'll see if I can't make a trade."
+
+"You don't have to see him," said the boy. "I can tell you that he'll
+sell her. You throw in the chestnut and you won't have to give any
+boot." And he grinned.
+
+"But there's the house." He pointed across the ravine at a little
+green-roofed shack buried in the rocks. "You can come over if you
+want to."
+
+"Is there something wrong with her?"
+
+"Nothin' much. Pop says she's the best hoss that ever run in these
+parts. And he knows, I'll tell a man!"
+
+"Son, I've got to have that horse!"
+
+"Mister," said the boy suddenly, "I know how you feel. Lots feel the
+same way. You want her bad, but she ain't worth her feed. A skunk put a
+bur under the saddle when she was bein' broke, and since then anybody
+can ride her bareback, but nothin' in the mountains can sit a saddle
+on her."
+
+Andrew cast one more long, sad look at the horse. He had never seen a
+horse that went so straight to his heart, and then he straightened the
+chestnut up the road and went ahead.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 19
+
+
+He had to be guided by what Uncle Jasper had often described--a mountain
+whose crest was split like the crown of a hat divided sharply by a
+knife, and the twin peaks were like the ears of a mule, except that they
+came together at the base. By the position of those distant summits he
+knew that he was in the ravine leading to the cabin of Hank Rainer,
+the trapper.
+
+Presently the sun flashed on a white cliff, a definite landmark by which
+Uncle Jasper had directed him, so Andrew turned out of his path on the
+eastern side of the gully and rode across the ravine. The slope was
+steep on either side, covered with rocks, thick with slides of loose
+pebbles and sand. His horse, accustomed to a more open country, was
+continually at fault. He did not like his work, and kept tossing his
+ugly head and champing the bit as they went down to the river bottom.
+
+It was not a real river, but only an angry creek that went fuming and
+crashing through the canyon with a voice as loud as some great stream.
+Andrew had to watch with care for a ford, for though the bed was not
+deep the water ran like a rifle bullet over smooth places and was torn
+to a white froth when it struck projecting rocks. He found, at length, a
+place where it was backed up into a shallow pool, and here he rode
+across, hardly wetting the belly of the gelding. Then up the far slope
+he was lost at once in a host of trees. They cut him off from his
+landmark, the white cliff, but he kept on with a feel for the right
+direction, until he came to a sudden clearing, and in the clearing was a
+cabin. It was apparently just a one-room shanty with a shed leaning
+against it from the rear. No doubt the shed was for the trapper's horse.
+
+He had no time for further thought. In the open door of the cabin
+appeared a man so huge that he had to bend his head to look out, and
+Andrew's heart fell. It was not the slender, rawboned youth of whom
+Uncle Jasper had told him, but a hulking giant. And then he remembered
+that twenty years had passed since Uncle Jasper rode that way, and in
+twenty years the gaunt body might have filled out, the shock of
+bright-red hair of which Jasper spoke might well have been the original
+of the red flood which now covered the face and throat of the big man.
+
+"Hello!" called the trapper. "Are you one of the boys on the trail?
+Well, I ain't seen anything. Been about six others here already."
+
+The blood leaped in Andrew, and then ran coldly back to his heart.
+Could they have outridden the gelding to such an extent as that?
+
+"From Tomo?" he asked.
+
+"Tomo? No. They come down from Gunter City, up yonder, and Twin Falls."
+
+And Andrew understood. Well indeed had Hal Dozier fulfilled his threat
+of rousing the mountains against this quarry. He glanced westward. It
+was yet an hour lacking of sundown, but since mid-morning Dozier had
+been able to send his messages so far and so wide. Andrew set his teeth.
+What did cunning of head and speed of horse count against the law when
+the law had electricity for its agent?
+
+"Well," said Andrew, slipping from his saddle, "if he hasn't been by
+this way I may as well stay over for the night. If they've hunted the
+woods around here all day, no use in me doing it by night. Can you
+put me up?"
+
+"Can I put you up? I'll tell a man. Glad to have you, stranger. Gimme
+your hoss. I'll take care of him. Looks like he was kind of ganted up,
+don't it? Well, I'll give him a feed of oats that'll thicken his ribs."
+
+Still talking, he led the gelding into his shed. Andrew followed, took
+off the saddle, and, having led the chestnut out and down to the creek
+for a drink, he returned and tied him to a manger which the trapper had
+filled with a liberal supply of hay, to say nothing of a feed box
+stuffed with oats.
+
+A man who was kind to a horse could not be treacherous to a man, Andrew
+decided.
+
+"You're Hank Rainer, aren't you?" he asked.
+
+"That's me. And you?"
+
+"I'm the unwelcome guest, I'm afraid," said Andrew. "I'm the nephew of
+Jasper Lanning. I guess you'll be remembering him?"
+
+"I'll forget my right hand sooner," said the big, red man calmly. But he
+kept on looking steadily at Andrew.
+
+"Well," said Andrew, encouraged and at the same time repulsed by this
+calm silence, "my name is one you've heard. I am--"
+
+The other broke in hastily. "You are Jasper Lanning's nephew. That's all
+I know. What's a name to me? I don't want to know names!"
+
+It puzzled Andrew, but the big man ran on smoothly enough: "Lanning
+ain't a popular name around here, you see? Suppose somebody was to come
+around and say, 'Seen Lanning?' What could I say, if you was here? 'I've
+got a Lanning here. I dunno but he's the one you want.' But suppose I
+don't know anything except you're Jasper's nephew? Maybe you're related
+on the mother's side. Eh?" He winked at Andrew. "You come along and
+don't talk too much about names."
+
+He led the way into the house and picked up one of the posters, which
+lay on the floor.
+
+"They've sent those through the mountains already?" asked Andrew
+gloomily.
+
+"Sure! These come down from Twin Falls. Now, a gent with special fine
+eyes might find that you looked like the gent on this poster. But my
+eyes are terrible bad mostly. Besides, I need to quicken up that fire."
+
+He crumpled the poster and inserted it beneath the lid of his iron
+stove. There was a rush and faint roar of the flame up the chimney as
+the cardboard burned. "And now," said Hank Rainer, turning with a broad
+smile, "I guess they ain't any reason why I should recognize you. You're
+just a plain stranger comin' along and you stop over here for the night.
+That all?"
+
+Andrew had followed this involved reasoning with a rather bewildered
+mind, but he smiled faintly in return. He was bothered, in a way, by the
+extreme mental caution of this fellow. It was as if the keen-eyed
+trapper were more interested in his own foolish little subterfuge than
+in preserving Andrew. "Now, tell me, how is Jasper?"
+
+"I've got to tell you one thing first. Dozier has raised the mountains,
+and I could never cross 'em now."
+
+"Going to turn back into the plains?"
+
+"No. The ranges are wide enough, but they're a prison just the same.
+I've got to get out of 'em now or stay a prisoner the rest of my life,
+only to be trailed down in the end. No, I want to stay right here in
+your cabin until the men are quieted down again and think I've slipped
+away from 'em. Then I'll sneak over the summit and get away unnoticed."
+
+"Man, man! Stay here? Why, they'll find you right off. I wonder you got
+the nerve to sit there now with maybe ten men trailin' you to this
+cabin. But that's up to you."
+
+There was a certain careless calm about this that shook Andrew to his
+center again. But he countered: "No, they won't look specially in
+houses. Because they won't figure that any man would toss up that
+reward. Five thousand is a pile of money."
+
+"It sure is," agreed the other. He parted his red beard and looked up to
+the ceiling. "Five thousand is a considerable pile, all in hard cash.
+But mostly they hunt for this Andrew Lanning a dozen at a time. Well,
+you divide five thousand by ten, and you've got only five hundred left.
+That ain't enough to tempt a man to give up Lanning--so bad as
+all that."
+
+"Ah," smiled Andrew, "but you don't understand what a stake you could
+make out of me. If you were to give information about me being here, and
+you brought a posse to get me, you'd come in for at least half of the
+reward. Besides, the five thousand isn't all. There's at least one rich
+gent that'll contribute maybe that much more. And you'd get a good half
+of that. You see, Hal Dozier knows all that, and he knows there's hardly
+a man in the mountains who would be able to keep away from selling me.
+So that's why he won't search the houses."
+
+"Not you," corrected the trapper sharply. "Andy Lanning is the man
+Dozier wants."
+
+"Well, Andrew Lanning, then," smiled the guest. "It was just a slip of
+the tongue."
+
+"Sometimes slips like that break a man's neck," observed the trapper,
+and he fell into a gloomy meditation.
+
+And after that they talked of other things, until supper was cooked and
+eaten and the tin dishes washed and put away. Then they lay in their
+bunks and watched the last color in the west through the open door.
+
+If a member of a posse had come to the door, the first thing his eyes
+fell upon would have been Andrew Lanning lying on the floor on one side
+of the room and the red-bearded man on the other. But, though his host
+suggested this, Andrew refused to move his blankets. And he was right.
+The hunters were roving the open, and even Hal Dozier was at fault.
+
+"Because," said Andrew, "he doesn't dream that I could have a friend so
+far from home. Not five thousand dollars' worth of friend, anyway."
+
+And the trapper grunted heavily.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 20
+
+
+It was a truth long after wondered at, when the story of Andrew Lanning
+was told and retold, that he had lain in perfect security within a
+six-hour ride from Tomo, while Hal Dozier himself combed the mountains
+and hundreds more were out hunting fame and fortune. To be sure, when a
+stranger approached, Andrew always withdrew into the horse shed; but,
+beyond keeping up a steady watch during the day, he had little to do and
+little to fear.
+
+Indeed, at night he made no pretense toward concealment, but slept quite
+openly on the floor on the bed of hay and blankets, just as Hank Rainer
+slept on the farther side of the room. And the great size of the reward
+was the very thing that kept him safe. For when men passed the cabin, as
+they often did, they were riding hard to get away from Tomo and into the
+higher mountains, where the outlaw might be, or else they were coming
+back to rest up, and their destination in such a case was always Tomo.
+The cabin of the trapper was just near enough to the town to escape
+being used as a shelter for the night by stray travelers. If they got
+that close, they went on to the hotel.
+
+But often they paused long enough to pass a word with Hank, and Andrew,
+from his place behind the door of the horse shed, could hear it all. He
+could even look through a crack and see the faces of the strangers. They
+told how Tomo was wrought to a pitch of frenzied interest by this
+manhunt. Well-to-do citizens, feeling that the outlaw had insulted the
+town by so boldly venturing into it, had raised a considerable
+contribution toward the reward. Other prominent miners and cattlemen of
+the district had come forward with similar offers, and every day the
+price on the head of Andrew mounted to a more tempting figure.
+
+It was a careless time for Andrew. After that escape from Tomo he was
+not apt to be perturbed by his present situation, but the suspense
+seemed to weigh more and more heavily upon the trapper. Hank Rainer was
+so troubled, indeed, that Andrew sometimes surprised a half-guilty,
+half-sly expression in the eyes of his host. He decided that Hank was
+anxious for the day to come when Andrew would ride off and take his
+perilous company elsewhere. He even broached the subject to Hank, but
+the mountaineer flushed and discarded the suggestion with a wave of his
+hand. "But if a gang of 'em should ever hunt me down, even in your
+cabin, Hank," said Andrew one day--it was the third day of his
+stay--"I'll never forget what you've done for me, and one of these days
+I'll see that Uncle Jasper finds out about it."
+
+The little, pale-blue eyes of the trapper went swiftly to and fro, as if
+he sought escape from this embarrassing gratitude.
+
+"Well," said he, "I've been thinkin' that the man that gets you, Andy,
+won't be so sure with his money, after all. He'll have your Uncle Jasper
+on his trail pronto, and Jasper used to be a killer with a gun in the
+old days."
+
+"No more," smiled Andrew. "He's still steady as a rock, but he hasn't
+the speed any more. He's over seventy, you see. His joints sort of creak
+when he tries to move with a snap."
+
+"Ah," muttered the trapper, and again, as he started through the open
+door, "Ah!"
+
+Then he added: "Well, son, you don't need Jasper. If half what they say
+is true, you're a handy lad with the guns. I suppose Jasper showed you
+his tricks?"
+
+"Yes, and we worked out some new ones together. Uncle Jasper raised me
+with a gun in my hand, you might say."
+
+"H'm!" said Hank Rainer.
+
+When they were sitting at the door in the semidusk, he reverted to the
+idea. "You been seein' that squirrel that's been runnin' across the
+clearin'?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I'd like to see you work your gun, Andy. It was a sight to talk about
+to watch Jasper, and I'm thinkin' you could go him one better. S'pose
+you stand up there in the door with your back to the clearin'. The next
+time that squirrel comes scootin' across I'll say, 'Now!' and you try to
+turn and get your gun on him before he's out of sight. Will you
+try that?"
+
+"Suppose some one hears it?" "Oh, they're used to me pluggin' away for
+fun over here. Besides, they ain't anybody lives in hearin'."
+
+And Andrew, falling into the spirit of the contest, stood up in the
+door, and the old tingle of nerves, which never failed to come over him
+in the crisis, was thrilling through his body again. Then Hank barked
+the word, "Now!" and Andrew whirled on his heel. The word had served to
+alarm the squirrel as well. As he heard it, he twisted about like the
+snapping lash of a whip and darted back for cover, three yards away. He
+covered that distance like a little gray streak in the shadow, but
+before he reached it the gun spoke, and the forty-five-caliber slug
+struck him in the middle and tore him in two. Andrew, hearing a sharp
+crackling, looked down at his host and observed that the trapper had
+bitten clean through the stem of his corncob.
+
+"That," said the red man huskily, "is some shootin'."
+
+But he did not look up, and he did not smile. And it troubled Andrew to
+hear this rather grudging praise.
+
+In the meantime, three days had put the gelding in very fair condition.
+He was enough mustang to recuperate swiftly, and that morning he had
+tried with hungry eagerness to kick the head from Andrew's shoulders.
+This had decided the outlaw. Besides, in the last day there had been
+fewer and fewer riders up and down the ravine, and apparently the hunt
+for Andrew Lanning had journeyed to another part of the mountains. It
+seemed an excellent time to begin his journey again, and he told the
+trapper his decision to start on at dusk the next day.
+
+The announcement brought with it a long and thoughtful pause.
+
+"I wisht I could send you on your way with somethin' worthwhile," said
+Hank Rainer at length. "But I ain't rich. I've lived plain and worked
+hard, but I ain't rich. So what I can give you, Andy, won't be much."
+
+Andrew protested that the hospitality had been more than a generous
+gift, but Hank Rainer, looking straight out the door, continued: "Well,
+I'm goin' down the road to get you my little gift, Andy. Be back in an
+hour maybe."
+
+"I'd rather have you here to keep me from being lonely," said Andrew.
+"I've money enough to buy what I want, but money will never buy me the
+talk of an honest man, Hank."
+
+The other started. "Honest enough, maybe," he said bitterly. "But
+honesty don't get you bread or bacon, not in this world!"
+
+And presently he stamped into the shed, saddled his pony, and after a
+moment was scattering the pebbles on the way down the ravine. The dark
+and silence gathered over Andrew Lanning. He had little warmth of
+feeling for Hank Rainer, to be sure, but the hush of the cabin he looked
+forward to many a long evening and many a long day in a silence like
+this, with no man near him. For the man who rides outside the law
+rides alone.
+
+He could have embraced the big man, therefore, when Hank finally came
+back, and Andrew could hear the pony panting in the shed, a sure sign
+that it had been ridden hard.
+
+"It ain't much," said Hank, "but it's yours, and I hope you get a chance
+to use it in a pinch." And he dumped down a case of .45 cartridges.
+
+After all, there could have been no gift more to the point, but it gave
+Andrew a little chill of distaste, this reminder of the life that lay
+ahead of him. And in spite of himself he could not break the silence
+that began to settle over the cabin again. Finally Hank announced that
+it was bedtime for him, and, preparing himself by the simple expedient
+of kicking off his boots and then drawing off his trousers, he slipped
+into his blankets, twisted them tightly around his broad shoulders with
+a single turn of his body, and was instantly snoring. Andrew followed
+that example more slowly. Not since he left Martindale, however, had he
+slept soundly. Take a tame dog into the wilderness and he learns to
+sleep like a wolf quickly enough; and Andrew, with mind and nerve
+constantly set for action like a cocked revolver, had learned to sleep
+like a wild thing in turn. And accordingly, when he wakened in the
+middle of the night, he was alert on the instant. He had a singular
+feeling that someone had been looking at him while he slept.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 21
+
+
+First of all, naturally, he looked at the door. It was now a bright
+rectangle filled with moonlight and quite empty. There must have been a
+sound, and he glanced over to the trapper for an explanation. But Hank
+Rainer lay twisted closely in his blankets.
+
+Andrew raised upon one elbow and thought. It troubled him--the insistent
+feeling of the eyes which had been upon him. They had burned their way
+into his dreams with a bright insistence.
+
+He looked again, and, having formed the habit of photographing things
+with one glance, he compared what he saw now with what he had last seen
+when he fell asleep. It tallied in every detail except one. The trousers
+which had lain on the floor beside Hank's bed were no longer there.
+
+It was a little thing, of course, but Andrew closed his eyes to make
+sure. Yes, he could even remember the gesture with which the trapper had
+tossed down the trousers to the floor. Andrew sat up in bed noiselessly.
+He slipped to the door and flashed one glance up and down. Below him the
+hillside was bright beneath the moon. The far side of the ravine was
+doubly black in shadow. But nothing lived, nothing moved. And then
+again he felt the eye upon him. He whirled. "Hank!" he called softly.
+And he saw the slightest start as he spoke. "Hank!" he repeated in the
+same tone, and the trapper stretched his arms, yawned heavily, and
+turned. "Well, lad?" he inquired.
+
+But Andrew knew that he had been heard the first time, and he felt that
+this pretended slow awakening was too elaborate to be true. He went back
+to his own bed and began to dress rapidly. In the meantime the trapper
+was staring stupidly at him and asking what was wrong.
+
+"Something mighty queer," said Andrew. "Must have been a coyote in here
+that sneaked off with your trousers, unless you have 'em on."
+
+Just a touch of pause, then the other replied through a yawn: "Sure, I
+got 'em on. Had to get up in the night, and I was too plumb sleepy to
+take 'em off again when I come back."
+
+"Ah," said Andrew, "I see."
+
+He stepped to the door into the horse shed and paused; there was no
+sound. He opened the door and stepped in quickly. Both horses were on
+the ground, asleep, but he took the gelding by the nose, to muffle a
+grunt as he rose, and brought him to his feet. Then, still softly and
+swiftly, he lifted the saddle from its peg and put it on its back. One
+long draw made the cinches taut. He fastened the straps, and then went
+to the little window behind the horse, through which had come the vague
+and glimmering light by which he did the saddling. Now he scanned the
+trees on the edge of the clearing with painful anxiety. Once he thought
+that he heard a voice, but it was only the moan of one branch against
+another as the wind bent some tree. He stepped back from the window and
+rubbed his knuckles across his forehead, obviously puzzled. It might be
+that, after all, he was wrong. So he turned back once more toward the
+main room of the cabin to make sure. Instead of opening the door softly,
+as a suspicious man will, he cast it open with a sudden push of his
+foot; the hulk of Hank Rainer turned at the opposite door, and the big
+man staggered as though he had been struck.
+
+It might have been caused by his swift right-about face, throwing him
+off his balance, but it was more probably the shock that came from
+facing a revolver in the hand of Andrew. The gun was at his hip. It had
+come into his hand with a nervous flip of the fingers as rapid as the
+gesture of the card expert.
+
+"Come back," said Andrew. "Talk soft, step soft. Now, Hank, what made
+you do it?"
+
+The red hair of the other was burning faintly in the moonlight, and it
+went out as he stepped from the door into the middle of the room, his
+finger tips brushing the ceiling above him. And Andrew, peering through
+that shadow, saw two little, bright eyes, like the eyes of a beast,
+twinkling out at him from the mass of hair.
+
+"When you went after the shells for me, Hank," he stated, "you gave the
+word that I was here. Then you told the gent that took the message to
+spread it around--to get it to Hal Dozier, if possible--to have the men
+come back here. You'd go out, when I was sound asleep, and tell them
+when they could rush me. Is that straight?"
+
+There was no answer.
+
+"Speak out! I feel like shovin' this gun down your throat, Hank, but I
+won't if you speak out and tell me the truth."
+
+Whatever other failings might be his, there was no great cowardice in
+Hank Rainer. His arms remained above his head and his little eyes
+burned. That was all.
+
+"Well," said Andrew, "I think you've got me, Hank. I suppose I ought to
+send you to death before me, but, to tell you the straight of it, I'm
+not going to, because I'm sort of sick. Sick, you understand? Tell me
+one thing--are the boys here yet? Are they scattered around the edge of
+the clearing, or are they on the way? Hank, was it worth five thousand
+to double-cross a gent that's your guest--a fellow that's busted bread
+with you, bunked in the same room with you? And even when they've
+drilled me clean, and you've got the reward, don't you know that you'll
+be a skunk among real men from this time on? Did you figure on that when
+you sold me?"
+
+The hands of Hank Rainer fell suddenly, but now lower than his beard.
+The fingers thrust at his throat--he seemed to be tearing his own flesh.
+
+"Pull the trigger, Andy," he said. "Go on. I ain't fit to live."
+
+"Why did you do it, Hank?"
+
+"I wanted a new set of traps, Andy; that was what I wanted. I'd been
+figurin' and schemin' all autumn how to get my traps before the winter
+comes on. My own wasn't any good. Then I seen that fur coat of yours. It
+set me thinking about what I could do if I had some honest-to-goodness
+traps with springs in 'em that would hold--and--I stood it as long as
+I could."
+
+While he spoke, Andrew looked past him, through the door. All the world
+was silver beyond. The snow had been falling, and on the first great
+peak there was a glint of the white, very pure and chill against the
+sky. The very air was keen and sweet. Ah, it was a world to live in, and
+he was not ready to die!
+
+He looked back to Hank Rainer. "Hank, my time was sure to come sooner or
+later, but I'm not ready to die. I'm--I'm too young, Hank.
+Well, good-by!"
+
+He found gigantic arms spreading before him.
+
+"Andy," insisted the big man, "it ain't too late for me to double-cross
+'em. Let me go out first and you come straight behind me. They won't
+fire; they'll think I've got a new plan for givin' you up. When we get
+to the circle of 'em, because they're all round the cabin, we'll drive
+at 'em together. Come on!"
+
+"Wait a minute. Is Hal Dozier out there?"
+
+"Yes. Oh, go on and curse me, Andy. I'm cursin' myself!"
+
+"If he's there, it's no use. But there's no use two dyin' when I try to
+get through. Only one thing, Hank; if you want to keep your self-respect
+don't take the reward money."
+
+"I'll see it burn first, and I'm goin' with you, Andy!"
+
+"You stay where you are; this is my party. Before the finish of the
+dance I'm going to see if some of those sneaks out yonder, lyin' so
+snug, won't like to step right out and do a caper with me!"
+
+And before the trapper could make a protest he had drawn back into the
+horse shed.
+
+There he led the chestnut to the door, and, looking through the crack,
+he scanned the surface of the ground. It was sadly broken and chopped
+with rocks, but the gelding might make headway fast enough. It was a
+short distance to the trees--twenty-five to forty yards, perhaps. And if
+he burst out of that shed on the back of the horse, spurred to full
+speed, he might take the watchers, who perhaps expected a signal from
+the trapper before they acted, quite unawares, and he would be among the
+sheltering shadows of the forest while the posse was getting up
+its guns.
+
+There was an equally good chance that he would ride straight into a nest
+of the waiting men, and, even if he reached the forest, he would be
+riddled with bullets.
+
+Now, all these thoughts and all this weighing of the chances occupied
+perhaps half a second, while Andrew stood looking through the crack.
+Then he swung into the saddle, leaning far over to the side so that he
+would have clearance under the doorway, kicked open the swinging door,
+and sent the chestnut leaping into the night.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 22
+
+
+If only the night had been dark, if the gelding had had a fair start;
+but the moon was bright, and in the thin mountain air it made a radiance
+almost as keen as day and just sufficiently treacherous to delude a
+horse, which had been sent unexpectedly out among rocks by a cruel pair
+of spurs. At the end of the first leap the gelding stumbled to his knees
+with a crash and snort among the stones. The shock hurled Andrew
+forward, but he clung with spurs and hand, and as he twisted back into
+the saddle the gelding rose valiantly and lurched ahead again.
+
+Yet that double sound might have roused an army, and for the keen-eared
+watchers around the clearing it was more than an ample warning. There
+was a crash of musketry so instant and so close together that it was
+like a volley delivered by a line of soldiers at command. Bullets sang
+shrill and small around Andrew, but that first discharge had been a
+burst of snap-shooting, and by moonlight it takes a rare man indeed to
+make an accurate snapshot. The first discharge left both Andrew and the
+horse untouched, and for the moment the wild hope of unexpected success
+was raised in his heart. And he had noted one all-important fact--the
+flashes, widely scattered as they were, did not extend across the exact
+course of his flight toward the trees. Therefore, none of the posse
+would have a point-blank shot at him. For those in the rear and on the
+sides the weaving course of the gelding, running like a deer and
+swerving agilely among the rocks, as if to make up for his first
+blunder, offered the most difficult of all targets.
+
+All this in only the space of a breath, yet the ground was already
+crossed and the trees were before him when Andrew saw a ray of
+moonlight flash on the long barrel of rifle to his right, and he knew
+that one man at least was taking a deliberate aim. He had his revolver
+on the fellow in the instant, and yet he held his fire. God willing, he
+would come back to Anne Withero with no more stains on his hands!
+
+And that noble, boyish impulse killed the chestnut, for a moment later a
+stream of fire spouted out, long and thin, from the muzzle of the rifle,
+and the gelding struck at the end of a stride, like a ship going down in
+the sea; his limbs seemed to turn to tallow under him, and he crumpled
+on the ground.
+
+The fall flung Andrew clean out of the saddle; he landed on his knees
+and leaped for the woods, but now there was a steady roar of guns behind
+him. He was struck heavily behind the left shoulder, staggered.
+Something gashed his neck like the edge of a red-hot knife, his whole
+left side was numb.
+
+And then the merciful dark of the trees closed around him.
+
+For fifty yards he raced through an opening in the trees, while a
+yelling like wild Indians rose behind him; then he leaped into cover and
+waited. One thing favored him still. They had not brought horses, or at
+least they had left their mounts at some distance, for fear of the
+chance noises they might make when the cabin was stalked. And now,
+looking down the lane among the trees, he saw men surge into it.
+
+All his left side was covered with a hot bath, but, balancing his
+revolver in his right hand, he felt a queer touch of joy and pride at
+finding his nerve still unshaken. He raised the weapon, covered their
+bodies, and then something like an invisible hand forced down the muzzle
+of his gun. He could not shoot to kill!
+
+He did what was perhaps better; he fired at that mass of legs, and even
+a child could not have failed to strike the target. Once, twice, and
+again; then the crowd melted to either side of the path, and there was a
+shrieking and forms twisting and writhing on the ground.
+
+Some one was shouting orders from the side; he was ordering them to the
+right and left to surround the fugitive; he was calling out that Lanning
+was hit. At least, they would go with caution down his trail after that
+first check. He left his sheltering tree and ran again down the ravine.
+
+By this time the first shock of the wounds and the numbness were leaving
+him, but the pain was terrible. Yet he knew that he was not fatally
+injured if he could stop that mortal drain of his wounds.
+
+He heard the pursuit in the distance more and more. Every now and then
+there was a spasmodic outburst of shooting, and Andrew grinned in spite
+of his pain. They were closing around the place where they thought he
+was making his last stand, shooting at shadows which might be the man
+they wanted.
+
+Then he stopped, tore off his shirt, and ripped it with his right hand
+and his teeth into strips. He tied one around his neck, knotting it
+until he could only draw his breath with difficulty. Several more strips
+he tied together, and then wound the long bandage around his shoulder
+and pulled. The pain brought him close to a swoon, but when his senses
+cleared he found that the flow from his wounds had eased.
+
+But not entirely. There was still some of that deadly trickling down his
+side, and, with the chill of the night biting into him, he knew that it
+was life or death to him if he could reach some friendly house within
+the next two miles. There was only one dwelling straight before him, and
+that was the house of the owner of the bay mare. They would doubtless
+turn him over to the posse instantly. But there was one chance in a
+hundred that they would not break the immemorial rule of mountain
+hospitality. For Andrew there was no hope except that tenuous one.
+
+The rest of that walk became a nightmare. He was not sure whether he
+heard the yell of rage and disappointment behind him as the posse
+discovered that the bird had flown or whether the sound existed only in
+his own ringing head. But one thing was certain--they would not trail
+Andrew Lanning recklessly in the night, not even with the moon to
+help them.
+
+So he plodded steadily on. If it had not been for that ceaseless drip he
+would have taken the long chance and broken for the mountains above him,
+trying through many a long day ahead to cure the wounds and in some
+manner sustain his life. But the drain continued. It was hardly more
+than drop by drop, but all the time a telltale weakness was growing in
+his legs. In spite of the agony he was sleepy, and he would have liked
+to drop on the first mat of leaves that he found.
+
+That crazy temptation he brushed away, and went on until surely, like a
+star of hope, he saw the light winking feebly through the trees, and
+then came out on the cabin.
+
+He remembered afterward that even in his dazed condition he was
+disappointed because of the neat, crisp, appearance of the house. There
+must be women there, and women meant screams, horror, betrayal.
+
+But there was no other hope for him now. Twice, as he crossed the
+clearing before he reached the door of the cabin, his foot struck a rock
+and he pitched weakly forward, with only the crumbling strength of his
+right arm to keep him from striking on his face. Then there was a
+furious clamor and a huge dog rushed at him.
+
+He heeded it only with a glance from the corner of his eye. And then,
+his dull brain clearing, he realized that the dog no longer howled at
+him or showed his teeth, but was walking beside him, licking his hand
+and whining with sympathy. He dropped again, and this time he could
+never have regained his feet had not his right arm flopped helplessly
+across the back of the big dog, and the beast cowered and growled, but
+it did not attempt to slide from under his weight.
+
+He managed to get erect again, but when he reached the low flight of
+steps to the front door he was reeling drunkenly from side to side. He
+fumbled for the knob, and it turned with a grating sound.
+
+"Hold on! Keep out!" shrilled a voice inside. "We got guns here. Keep
+out, you dirty bum!"
+
+The door fell open, and he found himself confronted by what seemed to
+him a dazzling torrent of light and a host of human faces. He drew
+himself up beside the doorway.
+
+"Gentlemen," said Andrew, "I am not a bum. I am worth five thousand
+dollars to the man who turns me over, dead or alive, to the sheriff. My
+name is Andrew Lanning."
+
+At that the faces became a terrible rushing and circling flare, and the
+lights went out with equal suddenness. He was left in total darkness,
+falling through space; but, at his last moment of consciousness, he felt
+arms going about him, arms through which his bulk kept slipping down,
+and below him was a black abyss.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 23
+
+
+It was a very old man who held, or tried to hold, Andrew from falling to
+the floor. His shoulders shook under the burden of the outlaw, and the
+burden, indeed, would have slumped brutally to the floor, had not the
+small ten-year-old boy, whom Andrew had seen on the bay mare, come
+running in under the arms of the old man. With his meager strength he
+assisted, and the two managed to lower the body gently.
+
+The boy was frightened. He was white at the sight of the wounds, and the
+freckles stood out in copper patches from his pallor.
+
+Now he clung to the old man.
+
+"Granddad, it's the gent that tried to buy Sally!"
+
+The old man had produced a murderous jackknife with a blade that had
+been ground away to the disappearing point by years of steady grinding.
+
+"Get some wood in the stove," he commanded. "Fire her up, quick. Put on
+some water. Easy, lad!"
+
+The room became a place of turmoil with the clatter of the stove lids
+being raised, the clangor of the kettle being filled and put in place.
+By the time the fire was roaring and the boy had turned, he found the
+bandages had been taken from the body of the stranger and his
+grandfather was studying the smeared naked torso with a sort of
+detached, philosophic interest. With the thumb and forefinger of his
+left hand he was pressing deeply into the left shoulder of Andrew.
+
+"Now, there's an arm for you, Jud," said the old man. "See them long,
+stringy muscles in the forearm? If you grow up and have muscles like
+them, you can call yourself a man. And you see the way his stomach caves
+in? Aye, that's a sign! And the way his ribs sticks out--and just feel
+them muscles on the point of his shoulder--Oh, Jud, he would of made a
+prime wrestler, this fine bird of ours!"
+
+"It's like touchin' somethin' dead, granddad," said the boy. "I don't
+dast to do it!"
+
+"Jud, they's some times when I just about want to give you up! Dead? He
+ain't nowheres near dead. Just bled a bit, that's all. Two as pretty
+little wounds as was ever drilled clean by a powerful rifle at short
+range. Dead? Why, inside two weeks he'll be fit as a fiddle, and inside
+a month he'll be his own self! Dead! Jud, you make me tired! Gimme
+that water."
+
+He went to work busily. Out of a sort of first-aid chest he took
+homemade bandages and, after cleansing the wounds, he began to dress
+them carefully.
+
+He talked with every movement.
+
+"So this here is the lion, is it?" nodded granddad. "This here is the
+ravenin', tearin', screechin' man-eater? Why, he looks mostly plain
+kid to me."
+
+"He--he's been shot, ain't he, granddad?" asked the child in a whisper.
+
+"Well, boy, I'd say that the lion had been chawed up considerable--by
+dogs."
+
+He pointed. "See them holes? The big one in front? That means they
+sneaked up behind him and shot him while his back was turned."
+
+"He's wakin' up, granddad," said Jud, more frightened than before.
+
+The eyes of Andrew were indeed opening.
+
+He smiled up at them. "Uncle Jas," he said, "I don't like to fight. It
+makes me sick inside, to fight." He closed his eyes again.
+
+"Now, now, now!" murmured Pop. "This boy has a way with him. And he
+killed Bill Dozier, did he? Son, gimme the whisky."
+
+He poured a little down the throat of the wounded man, and Andrew
+frowned and opened his eyes again: He was conscious at last.
+
+"I think I've seen you before," he said calmly. "Are you one of the
+posse?"
+
+The old man stiffened a little. A spot of red glowed on his withered
+cheek and went out like a snuffed light.
+
+"Young feller," said the old man, "when I go huntin' I go alone. You
+write that down in red, and don't forget it. I ain't ever been a member
+of no posse. Look around and see yourself to home."
+
+Andrew raised his head a little and made out the neat room. It showed,
+as even his fading senses had perceived when he saw the house first, a
+touch of almost feminine care. The floor was scrubbed to whiteness, the
+very stove was burnished.
+
+"I remember," said Andrew faintly.
+
+"You did see me before," said the other, "when you rode into Tomo. I
+seen you and you seen me. We changed looks, so to speak. And now you've
+dropped in to call on me. I'm goin' to put you up in the attic. Gimme a
+hand to straighten him up, Jud."
+
+With Jud's help and the last remnant of Andrew's strength they managed
+to get him to his feet, and then he partly climbed, partly was pushed by
+Jud, and partly was dragged by the old man up a ladder to the loft. It
+was quite cool there, very dark, and the air came in through
+two windows.
+
+"Ain't very sociable to put a guest in the attic," said Pop, between his
+panting breaths. "But a public character like you, Lanning, will have a
+consid'able pile of callers askin' after you. Terrible jarrin' to the
+nerves when folks come in and call on a sick man. You lie here and
+rest easy."
+
+He went down the ladder and came back dragging a mattress. There, by the
+light of a lantern, he and Jud made Andrew as comfortable as possible.
+
+"You mean to keep me here?" asked the outlaw.
+
+"Long as you feel like restin'," answered the old man.
+
+"You can make about--"
+
+"Stop that fool talk about what I can make out of you. How come it you
+stayed so close to Tomo? Where was you lyin' low? In the hills?"
+
+"Not far away." "And they smelled you out?"
+
+"A man I thought was my friend--" Andrew clicked his teeth shut.
+
+"You was sold, eh?"
+
+"I made a mistake."
+
+"H'm," was the other's comment. "Well, you forget about that and go to
+sleep. I got a few little attentions to pay to that posse. It'll be here
+r'arin' before tomorrer. Sleep tight, partner."
+
+He climbed down the ladder and looked around the room. Jud, his freckles
+still looking like spots of mud or rust, his eyes popping, stood silent.
+
+"I'm glad of that," said the old man, with a sigh.
+
+"What, granddad?"
+
+"You're like a girl, Jud. Takes a sight to make you reasonable quiet.
+But look yonder. Them spots look tolerable like red paint, don't they?
+Well, we got to get 'em off."
+
+"I'll heat some more water," suggested Jud.
+
+"You do nothing of the kind. You get them two butcher knives out of the
+table drawer and we'll scrape off the wood, because you can't wash that
+stain out'n a floor." He looked suddenly at Jud with a glint in his
+eyes. "I know, because I've tried it."
+
+For several minutes they scraped hard at the floor until the last
+vestige of the fresh stains was gone. Then the old man went outside and,
+coming back with a handful of sand, rubbed it in carefully over the
+scraped places. When this was swept away the floor presented no
+suspicious traces.
+
+"But," he exclaimed suddenly, "I forgot. I plumb forgot. He's been
+leakin' all the way here, and when the sun comes up they'll foller him
+that easy by the sign. Jud, we're beat!"
+
+They dropped, as at a signal, into two opposite chairs, and sat staring
+gloomily at each other. The old man looked simply sad and weary, but the
+color came and went in the face of Jud. And then, like a light, an idea
+dawned in the face of the child. He got up from his chair, lighted a
+lantern, and went outside. His grandfather observed this without comment
+or suggestion, but, when Jud was gone, he observed to himself: "Jud
+takes after me. He's got thoughts. And them was things his ma and pa was
+never bothered with."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 24
+
+
+The thought of Jud now took him up the back trail of Andrew Lanning. He
+leaned far over with the lantern, studying with intense interest every
+place where the wounds of the injured man might have left telltale
+stains on the rocks or the grass. When he had apparently satisfied
+himself of this, he turned and ran at full speed back to the house and
+went up the ladder to Andrew. There he took the boots--they were
+terribly stained, he saw--and drew them on.
+
+The loose boots and the unaccustomed weights tangled his feet sadly, as
+he went on down the ladder, but he said not a word to his grandfather,
+who was far too dignified to make a comment on the borrowed footgear.
+
+Again outside with his lantern, the boy took out his pocket-knife and
+felt the small blade. It was of a razor keenness. Then he went through
+the yard behind the house to the big henhouse, where the chickens sat
+perched in dense rows. He raised his lantern; at once scores of tiny,
+bright eyes flashed back at him.
+
+But Jud, with a twisted face of determination, kept on with his survey
+until he saw the red comb and the arched tail plumes of a large Plymouth
+Rock rooster.
+
+It was a familiar sight to Jud. Of all the chickens on the place this
+was his peculiar property. And now he had determined to sacrifice this
+dearest of pets.
+
+The old rooster was so accustomed to his master, indeed, that he allowed
+himself to be taken from the perch without a single squawk, and the boy
+took his captive beyond the pen. Once, when the big rooster canted his
+head and looked into his face, the boy had to wink away the tears; but
+he thought of the man so near death in the attic, he felt the clumsy
+boots on his feet, and his heart grew strong again.
+
+He went around to the front of the house and by the steps he fastened on
+the long neck of his prisoner a grasp strong enough to keep him silent
+for a moment. Then he cut the rooster's breast deeply, shuddering as he
+felt the knife take hold.
+
+Something trickled warmly over his hands. Dropping his knife in his
+pocket, Jud started, walked with steps as long as he could make them. He
+went, with the spurs chinking to keep time for each stride, straight
+toward a cliff some hundreds of yards from the house. The blood ran
+freely. The old rooster, feeling himself sicken, sank weakly against the
+breast of the boy, and Jud thought that his heart would break. He
+reached the sharp edge of the cliff and heard the rush of the little
+river far below him. At the same time his captive gave one final flutter
+of the wings, one feeble crow, and was dead.
+
+Jud waited until the tears had cleared from his eyes. Then he took off
+the boots, and, in bare feet that would leave no trace on the rocks, he
+skirted swiftly back to the house, put the dead body back in the chicken
+yard, and returned to his grandfather.
+
+There was one great satisfaction for him that evening, one reward for
+the great sacrifice, and it came immediately. While the old man stood
+trembling before him, Jud told his story.
+
+It was a rich feast indeed to see the relief, the astonishment, the
+pride come in swift turns upon that grim old face.
+
+And yet in the end Pop was able to muster a fairly good imitation of a
+frown.
+
+"And here you come back with a shirt and a pair of trousers plumb
+spoiled by all your gallivantin'," he said, "not speakin' of a perfectly
+good chicken killed. Ain't you never goin' to get grown up, Jud?"
+
+"He was mine, the chicken I killed," said Jud, choking.
+
+It brought a pause upon the talk. The other was forced to wink both eyes
+at once and sigh.
+
+"The big speckled feller?" he asked more gently.
+
+"The Plymouth Rock," said Jud fiercely. "He wasn't no speckled feller!
+He was the finest rooster and the gamest--"
+
+"Have it your own way," said the old man. "You got your grandma's tongue
+when it comes to arguin' fine points. Now go and skin out of them
+clothes and come back and see that you've got all that--that stuff of'n
+your face and hands."
+
+Jud obeyed, and presently reappeared in a ragged outfit, his face and
+hands red from scrubbing.
+
+"I guess maybe it's all right," declared the old man. "Only, they's
+risks in it. Know what's apt to happen if they was to find that you'd
+helped to get a outlaw off free?"
+
+"What would it be?" asked the boy.
+
+"Oh, nothin' much. Maybe they'd try you and maybe they wouldn't.
+Anyways, they'd sure wind up by hangin' you by the neck till you was as
+dead as the speckled rooster."
+
+"The Plymouth Rock," insisted Jud hotly.
+
+"All right, I don't argue none. But you just done a dangerous thing,
+Jud. And there'll be a consid'able pile of men here in the mornin', most
+like, to ask you how and why."
+
+He was astonished to hear Jud break into laughter.
+
+"Hush up," said Pop. "You'll be wakin' him up with all that noise.
+Besides, what d'you mean by laughin' at the law?" "Why, granddad," said
+Jud, "don't I know you wouldn't never let no posse take me from you?
+Don't I know maybe you'd clean 'em all up?"
+
+"Pshaw!" said Pop, and flushed with delight. "You was always a fool kid,
+Jud. Now you run along to bed."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 25
+
+
+In Hal Dozier there was a belief that the end justified the means. When
+Hank Rainer sent word to Tomo that the outlaw was in his cabin, and, if
+the posse would gather, he, Hank, would come out of his cabin that night
+and let the posse rush the sleeping man who remained, Hal Dozier was
+willing and eager to take advantage of the opportunity. A man of action
+by nature and inclination, Dozier had built a great repute as a hunter
+of criminals, and he had been known to take single-handed chances
+against the most desperate; but when it was possible Hal Dozier played a
+safe game. Though the people of the mountain desert considered him
+invincible, because he had run down some dozen notorious fighters, Hal
+himself felt that this simply increased the chances that the thirteenth
+man, by luck or by cunning, would strike him down.
+
+Therefore he played safe always. On this occasion he made surety doubly
+sure. He could have taken two or three known men, and they would have
+been ample to do the work. Instead, he picked out half a dozen. For just
+as Henry Allister had recognized that indescribable element of danger in
+the new outlaw, so the manhunter himself had felt it. Hal Dozier
+determined that he would not tempt Providence. He had his commission as
+a deputy marshal, and as such he swore in his men and started for the
+cabin of Hank Rainer.
+
+When the news had spread, others came to join him, and he could not
+refuse. Before the cavalcade entered the mouth of the canyon he had some
+thirty men about him. They were all good men, but in a fight,
+particularly a fight at night, Hal Dozier knew that numbers to excess
+are apt to simply clog the working parts of the machine. All that he
+feared came to pass. There was one breathless moment of joy when the
+horse of Andrew was shot down and the fugitive himself staggered under
+the fire of the posse. At that moment Hal had poised his rifle for a
+shot that would end this long trail, but at that moment a yelling member
+of his own group had come between him and his target, and the chance was
+gone. When he leaped to one side to make the shot, Andrew was already
+among the trees.
+
+Afterward he had sent his men in a circle to close in on the spot from
+which the outlaw made his stand, but they had closed on empty
+shadows--the fugitive had escaped, leaving a trail of blood. However, it
+was hardly safe to take that trail in the night, and practically
+impossible until the sunlight came to follow the sign. So Hal Dozier had
+the three wounded men taken back to the cabin of Hank Rainer.
+
+The stove was piled with wood until the top was white hot, and then the
+posse sat about on the floor, crowding the room and waiting for the
+dawn. The three wounded men were made as comfortable as possible. One
+had been shot through the hip, a terrible wound that would probably
+stiffen his leg for life; another had gone down with a wound along the
+shin bone which kept him in a constant torture. The third man was hit
+cleanly through the thigh, and, though he had bled profusely for some
+time, he was now only weak, and in a few weeks he would be perfectly
+sound again. The hard breathing of the three was the only sound in that
+dim room during the rest of the night. The story of Hank Rainer had been
+told in half a dozen words. Lanning had suspected him, stuck him up at
+the point of a gun, and then-refused to kill him, in spite of the fact
+that he knew he was betrayed. After his explanation Hank withdrew to the
+darkest corner of the room and was silent. From time to time looks went
+toward that corner, and one thought was in every mind. This fellow, who
+had offered to take money for a guest, was damned for life and branded.
+Thereafter no one would trust him, no one would change words with him;
+he was an outcast, a social leper. And Hank Rainer knew it as well
+as any man.
+
+A cloud of tobacco smoke became dense in the room, and a halo surrounded
+the lantern on the wall. Then one by one men got up and muttered
+something about being done with the party, or having to be at work in
+the morning, and stamped out of the room and went down the ravine to the
+place where the horses had been tethered. The first thrill of excitement
+was gone. Moreover, it was no particular pleasure to close in on a
+wounded man who lay somewhere among the rocks, without a horse to carry
+him far, and too badly wounded to shift his position. Yet he could lie
+in his shelter, whatever clump of boulders he chose, and would make it
+hot for the men who tried to rout him out. The heavy breathing of the
+three wounded men gave point to these thoughts, and the men of family
+and the men of little heart got up and left the posse.
+
+The sheriff made no attempt to keep them. He retained his first
+hand-picked group. In the gray of the morning he rallied these men
+again. They went first to the dead, stiff body of the chestnut gelding
+and stripped it of the saddle and the pack of Lanning. This, by silent
+consent, was to be the reward of the trapper. This was his in lieu of
+the money which he would have earned if they had killed Lanning on the
+spot. Hal Dozier stiffly invited Hank to join them in the manhunt; he
+was met by a solemn silence, and the request was not repeated. Dozier
+had done a disagreeable duty, and the whole posse was glad to be free of
+the traitor. In the meantime the morning was brightening rapidly, and
+Dozier led out his men.
+
+They went to their horses, and, coming back to the place where Andrew
+had made his halt and fired his three shots, they took up the trail.
+
+It was as easy to read as a book. The sign was never wanting for more
+than three steps at a time, and Hal Dozier, reading skillfully, watched
+the decreasing distance between heel indentations, a sure sign that the
+fugitive was growing weak from the loss of the blood that spotted the
+trail. Straight on to the doorstep of Pop's cabin went the trail. Dozier
+rapped at the door, and the old man himself appeared. The bony fingers
+of one hand were wrapped around the corncob, which was his inseparable
+companion, and in the other he held the cloth with which he had been
+drying dishes. Jud turned from his pan of dishwater to cast a frightened
+glance over his shoulder. Pop did not wait for explanations.
+
+"Come in, Dozier," he invited. "Come in, boys. Glad to see you. Ain't
+particular comfortable for an oldster like me when they's a full-grown,
+man-eatin' outlaw layin' about the grounds. This Lanning come to my door
+last night. Me and Jud was sittin' by the stove. He wanted to get us to
+bandage him up, but I yanked my gun off'n the wall and ordered
+him away."
+
+"You got your gun on Lanning--off the wall--before he had you covered?"
+asked Hal Dozier with a singular smile.
+
+"Oh, I ain't so slow with my hands," declared Pop. "I ain't half so old
+as I look, son! Besides, he was bleedin' to death and crazy in the head.
+I don't figure he even thought about his gun just then." "Why didn't
+you shoot him down, Pop? Or take him? There's money in him."
+
+"Don't I know it? Ain't I seen the posters? But I wasn't for pressin'
+things too hard. Not me at my age, with Jud along. I ordered him away
+and let him go. He went down yonder. Oh, you won't have far to go. He
+was about all in when he left. But I ain't been out lookin' around yet
+this morning. I know the feel of a forty-five slug in your inwards."
+
+He placed a hand upon his stomach, and a growl of amusement went through
+the posse. After all, Pop was a known man. In the meantime someone had
+picked up the trail to the cliff, and Dozier followed it. They went
+along the heel marks to a place where blood had spurted liberally over
+the ground. "Must have had a hemorrhage here," said Dozier. "No, we
+won't have far to go. Poor devil!"
+
+And then they came to the edge of the cliff, where the heel marks ended.
+"He walked straight over," said one of the men. "Think o' that!"
+
+"No," exclaimed Dozier, who was on his knees examining the marks, "he
+stood here a minute or so. First he shifted to one foot, and then he
+shifted his weight to the other. And his boots were turning in. Queer. I
+suppose his knees were buckling. He saw he was due to bleed to death and
+he took a shorter way! Plain suicide. Look down, boys! See anything?"
+
+There was a jumble of sharp rocks at the base of the cliff, and the
+water of the stream very close. Nothing showed on the rocks, nothing
+showed on the face of the cliff. They found a place a short distance to
+the right and lowered a man down with the aid of a rope. He looked about
+among the rocks. Then he ran down the stream for some distance. He came
+back with a glum face.
+
+There was no sign of the body of Andrew Lanning among the rocks. Looking
+up to the top of the cliff, from the place where he stood, he figured
+that a man could have jumped clear of the rocks by a powerful leap and
+might have struck in the swift current of the stream. There was no trace
+of the body in the waters, no drop of blood on the rocks. But then the
+water ran here at a terrific rate; the scout had watched a heavy boulder
+moved while he stood there. He went down the bank and came at once to a
+deep pool, over which the water was swirling. He sounded that pool with
+a long branch and found no bottom.
+
+"And that makes it clear," he said, "that the body went down the water,
+came to that pool, was sucked down, and got lodged in the rocks. Anybody
+differ? No, gents, Andrew Lanning is food for the trout. And I say it's
+the best way out of the job for all of us."
+
+But Hal Dozier was a man full of doubts. "There's only one other thing
+possible," he said. "He might have turned aside at the house of Pop. He
+may be there now."
+
+"But don't the trail come here? And is there any back trail to the
+house?" one of the men protested.
+
+"It doesn't look possible," nodded Hal Dozier, "but queer things are apt
+to happen. Let's go back and have a look."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 26
+
+
+He dismounted and gave his horse to one of the others, telling them that
+he would do the scouting himself this time, and he went back on foot to
+the house of Pop. He made his steps noiseless as he came closer, not
+that he expected to surprise Pop to any purpose, but the natural
+instinct of the trailer made him advance with caution, and, when he was
+close enough to the door he heard: "Oh, he's a clever gent, well
+enough, but they ain't any of 'em so clever that they can't learn
+somethin' new." Hal Dozier paused with his hand raised to rap at the
+door and he heard Pop say in continuation: "You write this down in red,
+sonny, and don't you never forget it: The wisest gent is the gent that
+don't take nothin' for granted."
+
+It came to Hal Dozier that, if he delayed his entrance for another
+moment, he might hear something distinctly to his advantage; but his
+role of eavesdropper did not fit with his broad shoulders, and, after
+knocking on the door, he stepped in. Pop was putting away the dishes,
+and Jud was scrubbing out the sink.
+
+"The boys are working up the trail," said Hal Dozier, "but they can do
+it by themselves. I know that the trail ends at the cliff. I'll tell you
+that poor kid walked to the edge of the cliff, stopped there a minute;
+made up his mind that he was bleeding to death, and then cut it short.
+He jumped, missed the rocks underneath, and was carried off by the
+river." Dozier followed up his statement with some curse words.
+
+He watched the face of the other keenly, but the old man was busy
+filling his pipe. His eyebrows, to be sure, flicked up as he heard this
+tragedy announced, and there was a breath from Jud. "I'll tell you,
+Dozier," said the other, lighting his pipe and then tamping the red-hot
+coals with his calloused forefinger, "I'm kind of particular about the
+way people cusses around Jud. He's kind of young, and they ain't any
+kind of use of him litterin' up his mind with useless words. Don't mean
+no offense to you, Dozier."
+
+The deputy officer took a chair and tipped it back against the wall. He
+felt that he had been thoroughly checkmated in his first move; and yet
+he sensed an atmosphere of suspicion in this little house. It lingered
+in the air. Also, he noted that Jud was watching him with rather wide
+eyes and a face of unhealthy pallor; but that might very well be because
+of the awe which the youngster felt in beholding Hal Dozier, the
+manhunter, at close range. All these things were decidedly small clews,
+but the marshal was accustomed to acting on hints.
+
+In the meantime, Pop, having put away the last of the dishes in a
+cupboard, whose shelves were lined with fresh white paper, offered
+Dozier a cup of coffee. While he sipped it, the marshal complimented his
+host on the precision with which he maintained his house.
+
+"It looks like a woman's hand had been at work," concluded the marshal.
+
+"Something better'n that," declared the other. "A man's hand, Dozier.
+People has an idea that because women mostly do housework men are out of
+place in a kitchen. It ain't so. Men just got somethin' more important
+on their hands most of the time." His eyes glanced sadly toward his gun
+rack. "Women is a pile overpraised, Dozier. I ask you, man to man, did
+you ever see a cleaner floor than that in a woman's kitchen?"
+
+The marshal admitted that he never had. "But you're a rare man," he
+said.
+
+Pop shook his head. "When I was a boy like you," he said, "I wasn't
+nothin' to be passed up too quick. But a man's young only once, and
+that's a short time--and he's old for years and years and years,
+Dozier." He added, for fear that he might have depressed his guest, "But
+me and Jud team it, you see. I'm extra old and Jud's extra young--so we
+kind of hit an average."
+
+He touched the shoulder of the boy and there was a flash of eyes between
+them, the flicker of a smile. Hal Dozier drew a breath. "I got no kids
+of my own," he declared. "You're lucky, friend. And you're lucky to have
+this neat little house."
+
+"No, I ain't. They's no luck to it, because I made every sliver of it
+with my own hands." An idea came to the deputy marshal.
+
+"There's a place up in the hills behind my house, a day's ride," he
+said, "where I go hunting now and then, and I've an idea a little house
+like this would be just the thing for me. Mind if I look it over?"
+
+Pop tamped his pipe.
+
+"Sure thing," he said. "Look as much as you like."
+
+He stepped to a corner of the room and by a ring he raised a trapdoor.
+"I got a cellar 'n' everything. Take a look at it below."
+
+He lighted the lantern, and Hal Dozier went down the steep steps,
+humming. "Look at the way that foundation's put in," said the old man in
+a loud voice. "I done all that, too, with my own hands."
+
+His voice was so unnecessarily loud, indeed, just as if the deputy were
+already under ground, that it occurred to Dozier that if a man were
+lying in that cellar he would be amply warned. And going down he walked
+with the lantern held to one side, to keep the light off his own body as
+much as possible; his hand kept at his hip.
+
+But, when he reached the cellar, he found only some boxes and canned
+provisions in a rack at one side, and a various litter all kept in close
+order. Big stones had been chiseled roughly into shape to build the
+walls, and the flooring was as dry as the floor of the house. It was, on
+the whole, a very solid bit of work. A good place to imprison a man, for
+instance. At this thought Dozier glanced up sharply and saw the other
+holding the trapdoor ajar. Something about that implacable, bony face
+made Dozier turn and hurry back up the stairs to the main floor of
+the house.
+
+"Nice bit of work down there," he said. "I can use that idea very well.
+Well," he added carelessly, "I wonder when my fool posse will get
+through hunting for the remains of poor Lanning? Come to think of
+it"--for it occurred to him that if the old man were indeed concealing
+the outlaw he might not know the price which was on his head--"there's
+a pretty little bit of coin connected with Lanning. Too bad you didn't
+drop him when he came to your door."
+
+"Drop a helpless man--for money?" asked the old man. "Never, Dozier!"
+
+"He hadn't long to live, anyway," answered the marshal in some
+confusion. Those old, straight eyes of Pop troubled him.
+
+He fenced with a new stroke for a confession.
+
+"For my part, I've never had much heart in this work of mine."
+
+"He killed your brother, didn't he?" asked Pop with considerable
+dryness.
+
+"Bill made the wrong move," replied Hal instantly. "He never should have
+ridden Lanning down in the first place. Should have let the fool kid go
+until he found out that Buck Heath wasn't killed. Then he would have
+come back of his own accord."
+
+"That's a good idea," remarked the other, "but sort of late, it strikes
+me. Did you tell that to the sheriff?"
+
+"Late it is," remarked Dozier, not following the question. "Now the poor
+kid is outlawed. Well, between you and me, I wish he'd gotten away
+clean-handed. But too late now.
+
+"By the way," he went on, "I'd like to take a squint at your attic, too.
+That ladder goes up to it, I guess."
+
+"Go ahead," said Pop. And once more he tamped his pipe.
+
+There was a sharp, shrill cry from the boy, and Dozier whirled on him.
+He saw a pale, scared face.
+
+"What's the matter?" he asked sharply. "What's the matter with you,
+Jud?" And he fastened his keen glance on the boy.
+
+Vaguely, from the corner of his eye, he felt that Pop had taken the pipe
+from his mouth. There was a sort of breathless touch in the air of the
+room. "Nothin'," said Jud. "Only--you know the rungs of that ladder
+ain't fit to be walked on, grandad!"
+
+"Jud," said the old man with a strained tone, "It ain't my business to
+give warnin's to an officer of the law--not mine. He'll find out little
+things like that for himself."
+
+For one moment Dozier remained looking from one face to the other. Then
+he shrugged his shoulders and went slowly up the ladder. It squeaked
+under his weight, he felt the rungs bow and tremble. Halfway up he
+turned suddenly, but Pop was sitting as old men will, humming a tune and
+keeping time to it by patting the bowl of his pipe with a forefinger.
+
+And Dozier made up his mind.
+
+He turned and came down the ladder. "I guess there's no use looking in
+the attic," he said. "Same as any other attic, I suppose, Pop?"
+
+"The same?" asked Pop, taking the pipe from his mouth. "I should tell a
+man it ain't. It's my work, that attic is, and it's different. I handled
+the joinin' of them joists pretty slick, but you better go and see for
+yourself."
+
+And he smiled at the deputy from under his bushy brows. Hal Dozier
+grinned broadly back at him.
+
+"I've seen your work in the cellar, Pop," he said. "I don't want to risk
+my neck on that ladder. No, I'll have to let it go. Besides, I'll have
+to round up the boys."
+
+He waved farewell, stepped through the door, and closed it behind him.
+
+"Grandad," exclaimed Jud in a gasp.
+
+The old man silenced him with a raised finger and a sudden frown. He
+slipped to the door in turn with a step so noiseless that even Jud
+wondered. Years seemed to have fallen from the shoulders of his
+grandfather. He opened the door quickly, and there stood the deputy. His
+back, to be sure, was turned to the door, but he hadn't moved.
+
+"Think I see your gang over yonder," said Pop. "They seem to be sort of
+waitin' for you, Dozier."
+
+The other turned and twisted one glance up at the old man.
+
+"Thanks," he said shortly and strode away.
+
+Pop closed the door and sank into a chair. He seemed suddenly to have
+aged again.
+
+"Oh, grandad," said Jud, "how'd you guess he was there all the time?"
+
+"I dunno," said Pop. "Don't bother me."
+
+"But why'd you beg him to look into the attic? Didn't you know he'd see
+him right off?"
+
+"Because he goes by contraries, Jud. He wouldn't of started for the
+ladder at all, if you hadn't told him he'd probably break his neck on
+it. Only when he seen I didn't care, he made up his mind he didn't want
+to see that attic."
+
+"And if he'd gone up?" whispered Jud.
+
+"Don't ask me what would of happened," said Pop.
+
+All his bony frame was shaken by a shiver.
+
+"Is he such a fine fighter?" asked Jud.
+
+"Fighter?" echoed Pop. "Oh, lad, he's the greatest hand with a gun that
+ever shoved foot into stirrup. He--he was like a bulldog on a trail--and
+all I had for a rope to hold him was just a little spider thread of
+thinking. Gimme some coffee, Jud. I've done a day's work."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 27
+
+
+The bullets of the posse had neither torn a tendon nor broken a bone.
+Striking at close range and driven by highpower rifles, the slugs had
+whipped cleanly through the flesh of Andrew Lanning, and the flesh
+closed again, almost as swiftly as ice freezes firm behind the wire that
+cuts it. In a very few days he could sit up, and finally came down the
+ladder with Pop beneath him and Jud steadying his shoulders from above.
+That was a gala day in the house. Indeed, they had lived well ever since
+the coming of Andrew, for he had insisted that he bear the household
+expense while he remained there, since they would not allow him
+to depart.
+
+"And I'll let you pay for things, Andrew," Pop had said, "if you won't
+say nothing about it, ever, to Jud. He's a proud kid, is Jud, and he'd
+bust his heart if he thought I was lettin' you spend a cent here."
+
+But this day they had a fine steak, brought out from Tomo by Pop the
+evening before, and they had beans with plenty of pork and molasses in
+them, cream biscuits, which Pop could make delicious beyond belief, to
+say nothing of canned tomatoes with bits of dried bread in them, and
+coffee as black as night. Such was the celebration when Andrew came down
+to join his hosts, and so high did all spirits rise that even Jud, the
+resolute and the alert, forgot his watch. Every day from dawn to dark he
+was up to the door or to the rear window, keeping the landscape under a
+sweeping observance every few moments, lest some chance traveler--all
+search for Andrew Lanning had, of course, ceased with the moment of his
+disappearance--should happen by and see the stranger in the household
+of Pop. But during these festivities all else was forgotten, and in the
+midst of things a decided, rapid knock was heard at the door.
+
+Speech was cut off at the root by that sound. For whoever the stranger
+might be, he must certainly have heard three voices raised in that room.
+It was Andrew who spoke. And he spoke in only a whisper. "Whoever it may
+be, let him in," said Andrew, "and, if there's any danger about him, he
+won't leave till I'm able to leave. Open the door, Jud."
+
+And Jud, with a stricken look, crossed the floor with trailing feet. The
+knock was repeated; it had a metallic clang, as though the man outside
+were rapping with the butt of a gun in his impatience, and Andrew,
+setting his teeth, laid his hand on the handle of his revolver. Here Jud
+cast open the door, and, standing close to it with her forefeet on the
+top step, was the bay mare. She instantly thrust in her head and snorted
+in the direction of the stranger.
+
+"Thank heaven!" said Andrew. "I thought it was the guns again!" And Jud,
+shouting with delight and relief, threw his arms around the neck of the
+horse. "It's Sally!" he said. "Sally, you rascal!"
+
+"That good-for-nothing hoss Sally," complained the old man. "Shoo her
+away, Jud."
+
+But Andrew protested at that, and Jud cast him a glance of gratitude.
+Andrew himself got up from the table and went across the room with half
+of an apple in his hand. He sliced it into bits, and she took them
+daintily from between his fingers. And when Jud reluctantly ordered her
+away she did not blunder down the steps, but threw her weight back on
+her haunches and swerved lightly away. It fascinated Andrew; he had
+never seen so much of feline control in the muscles of a horse. When he
+turned back to the table he announced: "Pop, I've got to ride that
+horse. I've got to have her. How does she sell?"
+
+"She ain't mine," said Pop. "You better ask Jud."
+
+Jud was at once white and red. He looked at his hero, and then he looked
+into his mind and saw the picture of Sally. A way out occurred to him.
+"You can have her when you can ride her," he said. "She ain't much use
+except to look at. But if you can saddle her and ride her before you
+leave--well, you can leave on her, Andy."
+
+It was the beginning of busy days for Andrew. The cold weather was
+coming on rapidly. Now the higher mountains above them were swiftly
+whitening, while the line of the snow was creeping nearer and nearer.
+The sight of it alarmed Andrew, and, with the thought of being
+snow-bound in these hills, his blood turned cold. What he yearned for
+were the open spaces of the mountain desert, where he could see the
+enemy approach. But every day in the cabin the terror grew that someone
+would pass, some one, unnoticed, would observe the stranger. The whisper
+would reach Tomo--the posse would come again, and the second time the
+trap was sure to work. He must get away, but no ordinary horse would do
+for him. If he had had a fine animal under him Bill Dozier would never
+have run him down, and he would still be within the border of the law. A
+fine horse--such a horse as Sally, say!
+
+If he had been strong he would have attempted to break her at once, but
+he was not strong. He could barely support his own weight during the
+first couple of days after he left the bunk, and he had to use his mind.
+He began, then, at the point where Jud had left off.
+
+Jud could ride Sally with a scrap of cloth beneath him; Andrew started
+to increase the size of that cloth. To keep it in place he made a long
+strip of sacking to serve as a cinch, and before the first day was gone
+she was thoroughly used to it. With this great step accomplished, Andrew
+increased the burden each time he changed the pad. He got a big
+tarpaulin and folded it many times; the third day she was accepting it
+calmly and had ceased to turn her head and nose it. Then he carried up a
+small sack of flour and put that in place upon the tarpaulin. She winced
+under the dead-weight burden; there followed a full half hour of frantic
+bucking which would have pitched the best rider in the world out of a
+saddle, but the sack of flour was tied on, and Sally could not dislodge
+it. When she was tired of bucking she stood still, and then discovered
+that the sack of flour was not only harmless but that it was good to
+eat. Andrew was barely in time to save the contents of the sack from
+her teeth.
+
+It was another long step forward in the education of Sally. Next he
+fashioned clumsy imitations of stirrups, and there was a long fight
+between Sally and stirrups, but the stirrups, being inanimate, won, and
+Sally submitted to the bouncing wooden things at her sides. And still,
+day after day, Andrew built his imitation saddle closer and closer to
+the real thing, until he had taken a real pair of cinches off one of
+Pop's saddles and had taught her to stand the pressure without
+flinching.
+
+There was another great return from Andrew's long and steady intimacy
+with the mare. She came to accept him absolutely. She knew his voice;
+she would come to his whistle; and finally, when every vestige of
+unsoundness had left his wounds, he climbed into that improvised saddle
+and put his feet in the stirrups. Sally winced down in her catlike way
+and shuddered, but he began to talk to her, and the familiar voice
+decided Sally. She merely turned her head and rubbed his knee with her
+nose. The battle was over and won. Ten minutes later Andrew had cinched
+a real saddle in place, and she bore the weight of the leather without a
+stir. The memory of that first saddle and the biting of the bur beneath
+it had been gradually wiped from her mind, and the new saddle was
+connected indisolubly with the voice and the hand of the man. At the end
+of that day's work Andrew carried the saddle back into the house with a
+happy heart.
+
+And the next day he took his first real ride on the back of the mare. He
+noted how easily she answered the play of his wrist, how little her head
+moved in and out, so that he seldom had to sift the reins through his
+fingers to keep in touch with the bit. He could start her from a stand
+into a full gallop with a touch of his knees, and he could bring her to
+a sliding halt with the least pressure on the reins. He could tell,
+indeed, that she was one of those rare possessions, a horse with a
+wise mouth.
+
+And yet he had small occasion to keep up on the bit as he rode her. She
+was no colt which hardly knew its own paces. She was a stanch
+five-year-old, and she had roamed the mountains about Pop's place at
+will. She went like a wild thing over the broken going. That catlike
+agility with which she wound among the rocks, hardly impaired her speed
+as she swerved. Andrew found her a book whose pages he could turn
+forever and always find something new.
+
+He forgot where he was going. He only knew that the wind was clipping
+his face and that Sally was eating up the ground, and he came to himself
+with a start, after a moment, realizing that his dream had carried him
+perilously out of the mouth of the ravine. He had even allowed the mare
+to reach a bit of winding road, rough indeed, but cut by many wheels and
+making a white streak across the country. Andrew drew in his breath
+anxiously and turned her back for the canyon.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 28
+
+
+It was, indeed, a grave moment, yet the chances were large that even if
+he met someone on the road he would not be recognized, for it had been
+many days since the death of Andrew Lanning was announced through the
+countryside. He gritted his teeth when he thought that this single burst
+of childish carelessness might have imperiled all that he and Jud and
+Pop had worked for so long and so earnestly--the time when he could take
+the bay mare and start the ride across the mountains to the comparative
+safety on the other side.
+
+That time, he made up his mind, would be the next evening. He was well;
+Sally was thoroughly mastered; and, with a horse beneath him which, he
+felt, could give even the gray stallion of Hal Dozier hard work, and
+therefore show her heels to any other animal on the mountain desert, he
+looked forward to the crossing of the mountains as an accomplished fact.
+Always supposing that he could pass Twin Falls and the fringe of towns
+in the hills, without being recognized and the alarm sent out.
+
+Going back up the road toward the ravine at a brisk canter, he pursued
+the illuminating comparison between Sally and Dozier's famous Gray
+Peter. Of course, nothing but a downright test of speed and
+weight-carrying power, horse to horse, could decide which was the
+superior, but Andrew had ridden Gray Peter many times when he and Uncle
+Jasper went out to the Dozier place, and he felt that he could sum up
+the differences between the two beautiful animals. Sally was the smaller
+of the two, for instance. She could not stand more than fifteen hands,
+or fifteen-one at the most. Gray Peter was a full sixteen hands of
+strong bone and fine muscle, a big animal--almost too big for some
+purposes. Among these rocks, now, he would stand no chance with Sally.
+Gray Peter was a picture horse. When one looked at him one felt that he
+was a standard by which other animals should be measured. He carried his
+head loftily, and there was a lordly flaunt to his tail. On the other
+hand, Sally was rather long and low. Furthermore, her neck, which was by
+no means the heavy neck of the gray stallion, she was apt to carry
+stretched rather straight out and not curled proudly up as Gray Peter
+carried his. Neither did she bear her tail so proudly. Some of this, of
+course, was due to the difference between a mare and a stallion, but
+still more came from the differing natures of the two animals. In the
+head lay the greatest variation. The head of Gray Peter was close to
+perfection, light, compact, heavy of jowl; his eye at all times was
+filled with an intolerable brightness, a keen flame of courage and
+eagerness. But one could find a fault with Sally's head. In general, it
+was very well shaped, with the wide forehead and all the other good
+points which invariably go with that feature; but her face was just a
+trifle dished. Moreover, her eye was apt to be a bit dull. She had been
+a pet all her life, and, like most pets, her eye partook of the human
+quality. It had a conversational way of brightening and growing dull. On
+the whole, the head of Sally had a whimsical, inquisitive expression,
+and by her whole carriage she seemed to be perpetually putting her nose
+into other business than her own.
+
+But the gait was the main difference. Riding Gray Peter, one felt an
+enormous force urging at the bit and ready and willing to expend itself
+to the very last ounce, with tremendous courage and good heart; there
+was always a touch of fear that Gray Peter, plunging unabated over rough
+and smooth, might be running himself out. But Sally would not maintain
+one pace. She was apt to shorten her stride for choppy going, and she
+would lengthen it like a witch on the level. She kept changing the
+elevation of her head. She ran freely, looking about her and taking note
+of what she saw, so that she gave an indescribable effect of enjoying
+the gallop just as much as her rider, but in a different way. All in
+all, Gray Peter was a glorious machine; Sally was a tricky intelligence.
+Gray Peter's heart was never in doubt, but what would Sally's courage be
+in a pinch?
+
+Full of these comparisons, studying Sally as one would study a friend,
+Andrew forgot again all around him, and so he came suddenly, around a
+bend in the road, upon a buckboard with two men in it. He went by the
+buckboard with a wave of greeting and a side glance, and it was not
+until he was quite around the elbow turn that he remembered that one of
+the men in the wagon had looked at him with a strange intentness. It was
+a big man with a great blond beard, parted as though with a comb by
+the wind.
+
+He rode back around the bend, and there, down the road, he saw the
+buckboard bouncing, with the two horses pulling it at a dead gallop and
+the driver leaning back in the seat.
+
+But the other man, the big man with the beard, had picked a rifle out of
+the bed of the wagon, and now he sat turned in the seat, with his blond
+beard blown sidewise as he looked back. Beyond a doubt Andrew had been
+recognized, and now the two were speeding to Tomo to give their report
+and raise the alarm a second time. Andrew, with a groan, shot his hand
+to the long holster of the rifle which Pop had insisted that he take
+with him if he rode out. There was still plenty of time for a long shot.
+He saw the rifle jerk up to the shoulder of the big man; something
+hummed by him, and then the report came barking up the ravine.
+
+But Andrew turned Sally and went around the bend; that old desire to
+rush on the men and shoot them down, that same cold tingling of the
+nerves, which he had felt when he faced the posse after the fall of Bill
+Dozier, was on him again, and he had to fight it down. He mastered it,
+and galloped with a heavy heart up the ravine and to the house of Pop.
+The old man saw him; he called to Jud, and the two stood in front of the
+door to admire the horseman and his horse. But Andrew flung himself out
+of the saddle and came to them sadly. He told them what had happened,
+the meeting, the recognition. There was only one thing to do--make up
+the pack as soon as possible and leave the place. For they would know
+where he had been hiding. Sally was famous all through the mountains;
+she was known as Pop's outlaw horse, and the searchers would come
+straight to his house.
+
+Pop took the news philosophically, but Jud became a pitiful figure of
+stone in his grief. He came to life again to help in the packing. They
+worked swiftly, and Andrew began to ask the final questions about the
+best and least-known trails over the mountains. Pop discouraged
+the attempt.
+
+"You seen what happened before," he said. "They'll have learned their
+lesson from Hal Dozier. They'll take the telephone and rouse the towns
+all along the mountains. In two hours, Andy, two hundred men will be
+blocking every trail and closin' in on you."
+
+And Andrew reluctantly admitted the truth of what he said. He resigned
+himself gloomily to turning back onto the mountain desert, and now he
+remembered the warning of failure which Henry Allister had given him. He
+felt, indeed, that the great outlaw had simply allowed him to run on a
+long rope, knowing that he must travel in a circle and eventually come
+back to the band.
+
+Now the pack was made--he saw Jud covertly tuck some little mementoes
+into it--and he drew Pop aside and dropped a weight of gold coins into
+his pocket.
+
+"You tarnation scoundrel!" began Pop huskily.
+
+"Hush," said Andrew, "or Jud will hear you and know that I've tried to
+leave some money. You don't want to ruin me with Jud, do you?"
+
+Pop was uneasy and uncertain.
+
+"I've had your food these weeks and your care, Pop," said Andrew, "and
+now I walk off with a saddle and a horse and an outfit all yours. It's
+too much. I can't take charity. But suppose I accept it as a gift; I
+leave you an exchange--a present for Jud that you can give him later on.
+Is that fair?"
+
+"Andy," said the old man, "you've double-crossed me, and you've got me
+where I can't talk out before Jud. But I'll get even yet. Good-by, lad,
+and put this one thing under your hat: It's the loneliness that's goin'
+to be the hardest thing to fight, Andy. You'll get so tired of bein' by
+yourself that you'll risk murder for the sake of a talk. But then hold
+hard. Stay by yourself. Don't trust to nobody. And keep clear of towns.
+Will you do that?"
+
+"That's plain common sense, Pop."
+
+"Aye, lad, and the plain things are always the hardest things to do."
+
+Next came Jud. He was very white, but he approached Andrew with a
+careless swagger and shook hands firmly.
+
+"When you bump into that Dozier, Andy," he said, "get him, will you?
+S'long!"
+
+He turned sharply and sauntered toward the open door of the house. But
+before he was halfway to it they heard a choking sound; Jud broke into a
+run, and, once past the door, slammed it behind him.
+
+"Don't mind him," said Pop, clearing his throat violently. "He'll cry
+the sick feelin' out of his insides. God bless you, Andy! And remember
+what I say: The loneliness is the hard thing to fight, but keep clear of
+men, and after a time they'll forget about you. You can settle down and
+nobody'll rake up old scores. I know."
+
+"D'you think it can be done?"
+
+There was a faint, cold twinkle in the eyes of Pop. "I'll tell a man it
+can be done," he said slowly. "When you come back here I may be able to
+tell you a little story, Andy. Now climb on Sally and don't hit nothin'
+but the high spots."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 29
+
+
+Even in his own lifetime a man in the mountain desert passes swiftly
+from the fact of history into the dream of legend. The telephone and the
+newspaper cannot bring that lonely region into the domain of cold truth.
+In the time that followed people seized on the story of Andrew Lanning
+and embroidered it with rare trimmings. It was told over and over again
+in saloons and around family firesides and in the bunk houses of many
+ranches. For Andrew had done what many men failed to do in spite of a
+score of killings--he struck the public fancy. People realized, however
+vaguely, that here was a unique story of the making of a desperado, and
+they gathered the story of Andrew Lanning to their hearts.
+
+On the whole, it was not an unkindly interest. In reality the sympathy
+was with the outlaw. For everyone knew that Hal Dozier was on the trail
+again, and everyone felt that in the end he would run down his man, and
+there was a general hope that the chase might be a long one. For one
+thing, the end of that chase would have removed one of the few vital
+current bits of news. Men could no longer open conversations by asking
+the last tidings of Andrew. Such questions were always a signal for an
+unlocking of tongues around the circle.
+
+Many untruths were told. For instance, the blowing of the safe in
+Allertown was falsely attributed to Andrew, while in reality he knew
+nothing about "soup" and its uses. And the running of the cows off the
+Circle O Bar range toward the border was another exploit which was
+wrongly checked to his credit or discredit. Also the brutal butchery in
+the night at Buffalo Head was sometimes said to be Andrew's work, but in
+general the men of the mountain desert came to know that the outlaw was
+not a red-handed murderer, but simply a man who fought for his own life.
+
+The truths in themselves were enough to bear telling and retelling.
+Andrew's Thanksgiving dinner at William Foster's house, with a revolver
+on the table and a smile on his lips, was a pleasant tale and a
+thrilling one as well, for Foster had been able to go to the telephone
+and warn the nearest officer of the law. There was the incident of the
+jammed rifle at The Crossing; the tale of how a youngster at Tomo
+decided that he would rival the career of the great man--how he got a
+fine bay mare and started a blossoming career of crime by sticking up
+three men on the road and committing several depredations which were all
+attributed to Andrew, until Andrew himself ran down the foolish fellow,
+shot the gun out of his hand, gave him a talking that recalled his
+lost senses.
+
+But all details fell into insignificance compared with the general
+theme, which was the mighty duel between Andrew and Hal Dozier--the
+unescapable manhunter and the trapwise outlaw. Hal did not lose any
+reputation because he failed to take Andrew Lanning at once. The very
+fact that he was able to keep close enough to make out the trail at all
+increased his fame. He did not even lose his high standing because he
+would not hunt Andrew alone. He always kept a group with him, and people
+said that he was wise to do it. Not because he was not a match for
+Andrew Lanning singlehanded, but because it was folly to risk life when
+there were odds which might be used against the desperado. But everyone
+felt that eventually Lanning would draw the deputy marshal away from his
+posse, and then the outlaw would turn, and there would follow a battle
+of the giants. The whole mountain desert waited for that time to come
+and bated its breath in hope and fear of it.
+
+But if the men of the mountain desert considered Hal Dozier the greatest
+enemy of Andrew, he himself had quite another point of view. It was the
+loneliness, as Pop had promised him. There were days when he hardly
+touched food such was his distaste for the ugly messes which he had to
+cook with his own hands; there were days when he would have risked his
+life to eat a meal served by the hands of another and cooked by another
+man. That was the secret of that Thanksgiving dinner at the Foster
+house, though others put it down to sheer, reckless mischief. And today,
+as he made his fire between two stones--a smoldering, evil-smelling
+fire of sagebrush--the smoke kept running up his clothes and choking his
+lungs with its pungency. And the fat bacon which he cut turned his
+stomach. At last he sat down, forgetting the bacon in the pan,
+forgetting the long fast and the hard ride which had preceded this meal,
+and stared at the fire.
+
+Rather, the fire was the thing which he kept chiefly in the center of
+his vision, but his glances went everywhere, to all sides, up, and down.
+Hal Dozier had hunted him hotly down the valley of the Little Silver
+River, but near the village of Los Toros the fagged posse and Hal
+himself had dropped back and once more given up the chase. No doubt they
+would rest for a few hours in the town, change horses, and then come
+after him again.
+
+It was a new Andrew Lanning that sat there by the fire. He had left
+Martindale a clear-faced boy; the months that followed had changed him
+to a man; the boyhood had been literally burned out of him. The skin of
+his face, indeed, refused to tan, but now, instead of a healthy and
+crisp white it was a colorless sallow. The rounded cheeks were now
+straight and sank in sharply beneath his cheek bones, with a sharply
+incised line beside the mouth. And his expression at all times was one
+of quivering alertness--the mouth a little compressed and straight, the
+nostrils seeming a trifle distended, and the eyes as restless as the
+eyes of a hungry wolf.
+
+Moreover, all of Andrew's actions had come to bear out this same
+expression of his face. If he sat down his legs were gathered, and he
+seemed about to stand up. If he walked he went with a nervous step,
+rising a little on his toes as though he were about to break into a run
+or as though he were poising himself to whirl at any alarm. He sat in
+this manner even now, under that dead gray sky of sheeted clouds, and in
+the middle of that great rolling plain, lifeless and colorless--lifeless
+except for the wind that hummed across it, pointed with cold. Andrew,
+looking from the dull glimmer of his fire to that dead waste, sighed. He
+whistled, and Sally came instantly to the call and dropped her head
+beside his own. She, at least, had not changed in the long pursuits and
+the hard life. It had made her gaunt. It had hardened and matured her
+muscles, but her head was the same, and her changeable, human eyes, the
+eyes of a pet, had not altered.
+
+She stood there with her head down, silently; and Andrew, his hands
+locked around his knees, neither spoke to her nor stirred. But by
+degrees the pain and the hunger went out of his face, and, as though she
+knew that she was no longer needed, Sally tipped his sombrero over his
+eyes with a toss of her head, and, having given this signal of disgust
+at being called without a purpose, she went back to her work of cropping
+the gramma grass, which of all grasses a horse loves best. Andrew
+straightened his hat and cast one glance after her.
+
+A shade of thought passed over his face as he looked at her. But this
+time the posse was probably once more starting on out of Los Toros and
+taking his trail. It would mean another test; he did not fear for her,
+but he pitied her for the hard work that was coming, and he looked
+almost with regret over the long racing lines of her body. And it was
+then, coming out of the sight of Sally, the thought of the posse, and
+the disgust for the greasy bacon in the pan, that Andrew received a
+quite new idea. It was to stop his flight, turn about, and double like a
+fox straight back toward Los Toros, making a detour to the left. The
+posse would plunge ahead, and he could cut in toward Los Toros. For he
+had determined to eat once again, at least, at a table covered with a
+white cloth, food prepared by the hand of another. Sally was known; he
+would leave her in the grove beside the Little Silver River. For
+himself, weeks had passed since any man had seen him, and certainly no
+one in Los Toros had met him face to face. He would be unknown except
+for a general description. And to disarm suspicion entirely he would
+leave his cartridge belt and his revolver with Sally in the woods. For
+what human being, no matter how imaginative, would possibly dream of
+Andrew Lanning going unarmed into a town and sitting calmly at a table
+to order a meal?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 30
+
+
+Retrospection made Andrew Lanning's coming to Los Toros a mad freak,
+whereas it was in reality a very clever stroke. Hal Dozier would have
+been on the road five hours before if he had not been held up in the
+matter of horses, but this is to tell the story out of turn.
+
+Andrew saddled the mare and sent her back swiftly out of the plain, over
+the hills, and then dropped her down into the valley of the Little
+Silver River until he reached the grove of trees just outside Los
+Toros--some four hundred yards, say, from the little group of houses. He
+then took off his belt, hung it over the pommel, fastened the reins to
+the belt, and turned away. Sally would stay where he left her--unless
+someone else tried to get to her head, and then she would fight like a
+wildcat. He knew that, and he therefore started for Los Toros with his
+line of communications sufficiently guarded.
+
+He instinctively thought first of drawing his hat low over his eyes and
+walking swiftly; a moment of calm figuring told him that the better way
+was to push the hat to the back of his head, put his hands in his
+pockets, and go whistling through the streets of the town. It was the
+middle of the gray afternoon; there were few people about, and the two
+or three whom Andrew passed nodded a greeting. Each time they raised
+their hands the fingers of Andrew twitched, but he made himself smile
+back at them and waved in return.
+
+He went on until he came to the restaurant. It was a long, narrow room
+with a row of tables down each side, and a little counter and cash
+register beside the door, some gaudy posters on the wall, a screen at
+the rear to hide the entrance to the kitchen, and a ragged strip of
+linoleum on the narrow passage between the tables.
+
+These things Andrew saw with the first flick of his eyes as he came
+through the door; as for people, there was a fat old man sitting behind
+the cash register in a dirty white apron and two men in greasy overalls
+and black shirts, perhaps from the railroad. There was one other thing
+which immediately blotted out all the rest; it was a big poster, about
+halfway down the wall, on which appeared in staring letters: "Ten
+thousand dollars reward for the apprehension, dead or alive, of Andrew
+Lanning." Above this caption was a picture of him, and below the big
+print appeared the body of smaller type which named his particular
+features. Straight to this sign Andrew walked and sat down at the table
+beneath it.
+
+It was no hypnotic attraction that took him there. He knew perfectly
+well that if a man noticed that sign he would never dream of connecting
+the man for whom, dead or alive, ten thousand dollars was to be paid,
+with the man who sat underneath the picture calmly eating his lunch in
+the middle of a town. Even if some supercurious person should make a
+comparison, he would not proceed far with it, Andrew was sure, for the
+picture represented the round, young face of a person who hardly existed
+now; the hardened features of Andrew were now only a skinny caricature
+of what they had been.
+
+At any rate, Andrew sat down beneath the picture, and, instead of
+resting one elbow on the table and partially veiling his face with his
+hand, as he might most naturally have done, he tilted back easily in his
+chair and looked up at the poster. The fat man from behind the register
+had come to take his order. He noted the direction of Andrew's eyes
+while he jotted down the items.
+
+"You ain't the first," he said, "that's looked at that. Think of the
+gent that'll get ten thousand dollars out of a single slug?"
+
+"I can name the man who'll get it," said Andrew, "and his name is Hal
+Dozier."
+
+"I guess you ain't far wrong," replied the other. "For that matter, the
+folks around here would mostly make the same guess. But maybe Hal's luck
+will take a turn."
+
+"Well," said Andrew, "if he gets the money I'll say that he's earned it.
+And rush in some bread first, captain. I'm two-thirds starved."
+
+It was a historic meal in more than one way. The size of it was one
+notable feature, and even Andrew had to loosen his belt when he came to
+attack the main feature, which was a vast steak with fried eggs
+scattered over the top of it.
+
+The steak had been reduced to a meager rim before Andrew had any
+attention to pay to the paper which had been placed on his table. It was
+an eight-page sheet entitled _The Granville Bugle_, and a subhead
+announced that it was "the greatest paper on the ranges and the
+cattleman's guide." Andrew found a picture on the first page, a picture
+of Hal Dozier, and over the picture the following caption: "Watch this
+column for news of the Andrew Lanning hunt."
+
+The article in this week's issue contained few facts. It announced a
+number of generalities: "Marshal Hal Dozier, when interviewed, said--"
+and a great many innocuous things which he was sure that grim hunter
+could not have spoken. He passed over the rest of the column in careless
+contempt. On the second page, in a muddle of short notices, one
+headline caught his eye and held it: "Charles Merchant to Wed
+Society Belle."
+
+The editor had spread his talents for the public eye in doing justice to
+it:
+
+On the fifteenth of the month will be consummated a romance which began
+last year, when Charles Merchant, son of the well-known cattle king,
+John Merchant, went East and met Miss Anne Withero. It is Miss Withero's
+second visit in the West, and it is now announced that the marriage--
+
+Andrew crumpled the paper and let it fall. He glanced at a calender on
+the wall opposite him. There remained six days before the wedding.
+
+And he was still so stunned by that announcement that, raising his head
+slowly, his thoughts spinning, he looked up and encountered the eyes of
+Hal Dozier as the latter sank into a chair.
+
+He did not complete the act, but was arrested in midair, one hand
+grasping the back of the chair, the other hand at his hip. Andrew, in
+the space of an instant, thought of three things--to kick the table from
+him and try to get to the side door of the place, to catch up the heavy
+sugar bowl and attempt to bowl over his man with a well-directed blow,
+or to simply sit and look Hal Dozier in the eye.
+
+He had thought of the three things in the space that it would take a dog
+to snap at a fly and look away. He dismissed the first alternatives as
+absurd, and, picking up his cup of coffee, he raised his eyes slowly
+toward the ceiling, after the time-honored fashion of a man draining a
+glass, let his glance move gradually up and catch on the face of Dozier,
+and then, without haste, lowered the cup again to its saucer. The flush
+of his own heavy meal kept his pallor from showing. As for Dozier, there
+was a succession of changes in his features, and then he concluded by
+lowering himself heavily the rest of the way into his chair. He gave his
+order to the proprietor in a dazed fashion, looking straight at Andrew,
+and the latter knew perfectly that the deputy marshal felt that he was
+in a dream. He was seeing what was not possible to see; his eyes were
+telling his brain in definite terms: "There sits Andrew Lanning and ten
+thousand dollars." But the reason of Dozier was speaking no less
+decidedly: "There sits a man without a weapon at his hip and actually
+beneath the poster which offers a reward for the capture of the person
+he resembles. Also, he is in a restaurant in the middle of a town. I
+have only to raise my voice in order to surround him."
+
+And reason gained the upper hand, though Dozier continued to look at
+Andrew in a fascinated manner.
+
+Suddenly the outlaw knew that it would not do to disregard that glance
+so long continued. To disregard it would be to start the suspicions of
+Dozier as soon as his brain cleared.
+
+"Hello, stranger," said Andrew, and he merely made his voice a trifle
+husky and deep. "D'you know me?"
+
+The eyes of Dozier widened, there was a convulsive motion of his arm,
+and then his glance wandered slowly away.
+
+"Excuse me," he said. "I thought I remembered your face."
+
+Should he let it rest at that? No, better risk a finishing touch. "No
+harm done," he said in the same loud voice. "Hey, captain, another cup
+of coffee, will you? And a cigar."
+
+He tilted back in his chair and began to hum. And all the time his
+nerves were jumping, and that old frenzy was taking him by the throat,
+that bulldog eagerness for the fight. But fight emptyhanded--and against
+Hal Dozier? The restaurant owner brought Dozier's order, and then the
+coffee and the cigar to Andrew, and while the deputy continued to look
+with dumb fascination at Andrew with swift side glances, Andrew finished
+his second cup. He bit off the end of his cigar, asked for his check,
+and paid it, and then felt his nerves crumble and go to pieces.
+
+It was not Hal Dozier who sat there, but death itself that looked him in
+the face. One false move, one wrong gesture, would betray him. How could
+he tell? That very moment his expression might have altered into
+something which the marshal could not fail to recognize, and the moment
+that final touch came there would be a gun play swifter than the eye
+could follow--simply a flash of steel and a simultaneous explosion.
+
+Even now, with the cigar between his teeth, he knew that if he lighted a
+match, the match would tremble between his fingers, and that trembling
+would betray him to Dozier. Yet he must not sit there, either, with the
+cigar between his teeth, unlighted. It was a little thing, but the
+weight of a feather would turn the balance and loose on him the
+thunderbolt of Hal Dozier in action.
+
+But what could he do?
+
+He found a thing in the very deeps of his despair. He got up from his
+chair, pushed his hat calmly upon his head and walked straight to the
+deputy. He dropped both hands upon the edge of Hal's table and leaned
+across it.
+
+"Got a light, partner?" he asked.
+
+And standing there over the table, he knew that Dozier had at length
+finally and definitely recognized him; but that the numbed brain of the
+marshal refused to permit him to act. He believed and yet he dared not
+believe his belief. Andrew saw the glance of Dozier go to his hip--his
+hip which the holster had rubbed until it gleamed. But no matter--the
+gun was not there--and stunned again by that impossible fact Dozier
+reached back and brought up his hand bearing a match box. He took out a
+match. He lighted it, his brows drawing together and slackening all the
+time, and then he looked up, his eyes rising with the lighted match, and
+stared full into the eyes of Andrew.
+
+It was discovery undoubtedly--and how long would that mental paralysis
+last?
+
+Andrew looked straight back into those eyes. His cigar took the fire and
+sucked in the flame. A cloud of smoke puffed out and rolled toward Hal
+Dozier, and Andrew turned leisurely and walked toward the door.
+
+He was a yard from it.
+
+"Lanning!" came a voice behind him, terrible, like a scream of pain.
+
+As he leaped forward a gun spoke heavily in the room. He heard the
+bullet crunch into the frame of the door; the door itself was split by
+the second shot as Andrew slammed it shut. Then he raced around the
+corner of the restaurant and made for the grove.
+
+There was not a sound behind him for a moment. Then a roar rose from the
+village and rushed after him. It gave him wings. And, looking back, he
+saw that Hal Dozier was not among the pursuers. No, half a dozen men
+were running, and firing as they ran, but there was not a rifle in the
+lot, and it takes a good man to land a bullet on the run where he is
+firing at a dodging target. The pursuers lost ground; they stopped and
+yelled for horses.
+
+But that was what Hal Dozier was doing now. He was jerking a saddle on
+the back of Gray Peter, and in sixty seconds he would be tearing out of
+Los Toros. In the same space Andrew was in his own saddle with a flying
+leap and spurring out of the trees.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 31
+
+
+By one thing he knew the utter desperation of Hal Dozier. For the man
+had fired while Andrew's back was turned. The bullet had followed the
+warning cry as swiftly as the strike of a snake follows its rattle. Luck
+and his sudden leap forward had unbalanced the nice aim of Dozier, and
+perhaps his mental agitation had contributed to it. But, at any rate,
+Andrew was troubled as he cleared the edge of the trees and cantered
+Sally not too swiftly along the Little Silver River toward Las Casas
+mountains, a little east of south.
+
+He did not hurry her, partly because he wished to stay close and make
+sure of the number and force of his pursuers, and partly because he
+already had a lead sufficient to keep out of any but chance rifle shots.
+
+He had not long to wait. Men boiled out of the village like hornets out
+of a shaken nest. He could see them buckling on belts while they were
+riding with the reins in their teeth. And they came like the wind,
+yelling at the sight of their quarry. Who would not kill a horse for the
+sake of saying that he had been within pistol range of the great outlaw?
+But, fast as their horses ran, Dozier, on Gray Peter, was able to keep
+up with them and also to range easily from group to group. Truly, Gray
+Peter was a glorious animal! If he were allowed to stretch out after the
+mare, what would the result be?
+
+The pursuers, under the direction of Dozier, spread across the river
+bottom and, having formed so that no tricky doubling could leave them in
+the lurch on a blind trail, they began to use a new set of tactics.
+
+Dozier kept Gray Peter at a steady pace, never varying his gait. But,
+on either side of him groups of his followers urged their horses forward
+at breakneck speed. Three or four would send home the spurs and rush up
+the river bottom after Andrew. If he did not hurry on they opened fire
+with their rifles from a short distance and sent a hail of random
+bullets, but Andrew knew that a random bullet carries just as much force
+as a well-aimed one, and chance might be on the side of one of those
+shots. He dared not allow them to come too close. Yet his heart rejoiced
+as he watched the manner in which Sally accepted these challenges. She
+never once had to lurch into her racing gait; she took the rushes of the
+cow ponies behind her by merely lengthening her stride until the horses
+behind her were winded and had to fall back.
+
+If Andrew had let out Sally she would have walked away from them all,
+but he dared not do that. For, after he had run the heart out of the
+commoner ones, there remained Gray Peter in reserve, never changing his
+pace, never hurrying, falling often far back, as the groups one after
+another pushed close to Sally and made her spurt, gaining again when the
+spurts ended one by one.
+
+There were two hours of daylight; there was one hour of dusk; and all
+that time the crowd kept thrusting out its small groups, one after the
+other, reaching after Sally like different arms, and each time she
+answered the spurt, and always slipped away into a greater lead at the
+end of it. And then, while the twilight was turning into dark, Andrew
+looked back and saw the whole crowd rein in their horses and turn back.
+There remained a single figure following him, and that figure was easily
+seen, because it was a man on a gray horse. And then Andrew grasped the
+plan fully. The posse had played its part; the thing for which the
+mountain desert had waited was come at last, and Hal Dozier was going on
+to find his man single-handed and pull him down. Twice, before complete
+darkness set in, Andrew had been on the verge of turning and going back
+to accept the challenge of Hal Dozier. Always two things stopped him.
+There was first the fear of the man which he frankly admitted, and more
+than that was the feeling that one thing lay before him to be done
+before he could meet Dozier and end the long trail. He must see Anne
+Withero. She was about to be married and be drawn out of his world and
+into a new one. He felt it was more important than life or death to see
+her before that transformation took place. They would go East, no doubt.
+Two thousand miles, the law and the mountains would fence him away from
+her after that.
+
+During the last months he accepted her as he accepted the
+stars--something far away from him. Now, by some pretext, by some wile,
+he must live to see her once more. After that let Hal Dozier meet him
+when he would.
+
+But with this in mind, as soon as the utter dark shut down, he swerved
+Sally to the right and worked slowly up through the mountains, heading
+due southwest and out of the valley of the Little Silver. He kept at it,
+through a district where the mare could not even trot a great deal of
+the time, for two or more hours. Then he found a little plateau thick
+with good grazing for Sally and with a spring near it. There he camped
+for the night, without food, without fire.
+
+And not once during the hours before morning did he close his eyes. When
+the first gray touched the sky he was in the saddle again; before the
+sun was up he had crossed the Las Casas and was going down the great
+shallow basin of the Roydon River. A fine, drizzling rain was falling,
+and Sally, tired from her hard work of the day before and the long duels
+with the horses of the posse, went even more down-heartedly moody than
+usual, shuffling wearily, but recovering herself with her usual catlike
+adroitness whenever her footing failed on the steep downslope.
+
+For all her dullness, it was a signal from Sally that saved Andrew. She
+jerked up her head and turned; he looked in the same direction and saw a
+form like a gray ghost coming over the hills to his left, a dim shape
+through the rain. Gloomily Andrew watched Hal Dozier come. Gray Peter
+had been fresher than Sally at the end of the run of the day before. He
+was fresher now. Andrew could tell that easily by the stretch of his
+gallop and the evenness of his pace as he rushed across the slope. He
+gave the word to Sally. She tossed up her head in mute rebellion at this
+new call for a race, and then broke into a canter whose first few
+strides, by way of showing her anger, were as choppy and lifeless as the
+stride of a plow horse.
+
+That was the beginning of the famous ride from the Las Casas mountains
+to the Roydon range, and all the distance across the Roydon valley. It
+started with a five-mile sprint--literally five miles of hot racing in
+which each horse did its best. And in that five miles Gray Peter would
+most unquestionably have won had not one bit of luck fallen the mare. A
+hedge of young evergreen streaked before Sally, and Andrew put her at
+the mark; she cleared it like a bird, jumping easily and landing in her
+stride. It was not the first time she had jumped with Andrew.
+
+But Gray Peter was not a steeplechaser. He had not been trained to it,
+and he refused. His rider had to whirl and go up the line of shrubs
+until he found a place to break through. Then he was after Sally again.
+But the moment that Andrew saw the marshal had been stopped he did not
+use the interim to push the mare and increase her lead. Very wisely he
+drew her back to the long, rocking canter which was her natural gait,
+and Sally got the breath which Gray Peter had run out of her. She also
+regained priceless lost ground, and when the gray came in view of the
+quarry again his work was all to do over again. Hal Dozier tried again
+in straightaway running. It had been his boast that nothing under the
+saddle in the mountain desert could keep away from him in a stretch of
+any distance, and he rode Gray Peter desperately to make his boast good.
+He failed. If that first stretch had been unbroken--but there his chance
+was gone, and, starting the second spurt, Andrew came to realize one
+greatly important truth--Sally could not sprint for any distance, but up
+to a certain pace she ran easily and without labor. He made it his point
+to see that she was never urged beyond that pace. He found another
+thing, that she took a hill in far better style than Peter, and she did
+far better in the rough, but on the level going he ate up her
+handicap swiftly.
+
+With a strength of his own found and a weakness in his pursuer, Andrew
+played remorselessly to that weakness with his strength. He sought the
+choppy ground as a preference and led the stallion through it wherever
+he could; he swung to the right, where there was a stretch of rolling
+hills, and once more Gray Peter had a losing space before him.
+
+So they came to the river itself, with Gray Peter comfortably in the
+rear, but running well within his strength. Andrew paused in the
+shallows to allow Sally one swallow; then he went on. But Dozier did not
+pause for even this. It was a grave mistake.
+
+And so the miles wore on. Sally was still running like a swallow for
+lightness, but Andrew knew by her breathing that she was giving vital
+strength to the effort. He talked to her constantly. He told her how
+Gray Peter ran behind them. He encouraged her with pet words. And Sally
+seemed to understand, for she flicked one ear back to listen, and then
+she pricked them both and kept at her work.
+
+It was a heart-tearing thing to see her run to the point of lather and
+then keep on.
+
+They were in low hills, and Gray Peter was losing steadily. They reached
+a broad flat, and the stallion gained with terrible insistence. Looking
+back, Andrew could see that the marshal had stripped away every vestige
+of his pack. He followed that example with a groan. And still Gray
+Peter gained.
+
+It was the last great effort for the stallion. Before them rose the
+foothills of the Roydon mountains; behind them the Las Casas range was
+lost in mist. It seemed that they had been galloping like this for an
+infinity of time, and Andrew was numb from the shoulders down. If he
+reached those hills Gray Peter was beaten. He knew it; Hal Dozier knew
+it; and the two great horses gave all their strength to the last duel
+of the race.
+
+The ears of Sally no longer pricked. They lay flat on her neck. The
+amazing lift was gone from her gait, and she pounded heavily with the
+forelegs. And still she struggled on. He looked back, and Gray Peter
+still gained, an inch at a time, and his stride did not seem to have
+abated. The one bitter question now was whether Sally would not collapse
+under the effort. With every lurch of her feet, Andrew expected to feel
+her crumble beneath him. And yet she went on. She was all heart, all
+nerve, and running on it. Behind her came Gray Peter, and he also ran
+with his head stretched out.
+
+He was within rifle range now. Why did not Dozier fire? Perhaps he had
+set his heart on actually running Sally down, not dropping his prey with
+a distant shot.
+
+And still they flew across the flat. The hills were close now, and
+sometimes, when the drizzling rain lifted, it seemed that the Roydon
+mountains were exactly above them, leaning out over him like a shadow.
+He called on Sally again and again. He touched her for the first time in
+her life with spurs, and she found something in the depths of her heart
+and her courage to answer with. She ran again with a ghost of her former
+buoyancy, and Gray Peter was held even. Not an inch could he gain after
+that. Andrew saw his pursuer raise his quirt and flog. It was useless.
+Each horse was running itself out, and no power could get more speed out
+of the pounding limbs.
+
+And with his head still turned, Andrew felt a shock and flounder. Sally
+had almost fallen. He jerked sharply up on the reins, and she broke into
+a staggering trot. Then Andrew saw that they had struck the slope of the
+first hill, a long, smooth rise which she would have taken at full speed
+in the beginning of the race, but now though she labored bitterly, she
+could not raise a gallop. The trot was her best effort.
+
+There was a shrill yelling behind, and Andrew saw Dozier, a hand
+brandished above his head. He had seen Sally break down; Gray Peter
+would catch her; his horse would win that famous duel of speed and
+courage. Rifle? He had forgotten his rifle. He would go in, he would
+overhaul Sally, and then finish the chase with a play of revolvers. And
+in expectation of that end, Andrew drew his revolver. It hung the length
+of his arm; he found that his muscles were numb from the cold and the
+cramped position from the elbow down. Shoot? He was as helpless as
+though he had no gun at all. He beat his hands together to bring back
+the blood. He thrashed his arms against the pommel of the saddle. There
+was only a dull pain; it would take long minutes to bring those hands
+back to the point of service, and in the meantime Gray Peter galloped
+upon him from behind!
+
+Well, he would let Sally do her best. For the last time he called on
+her; for the last time she struggled to respond, and Andrew looked back
+and grimly watched the stallion sweeping across the last portion of the
+flat ground, closer, closer, and then, at the very base of the slope,
+Gray Peter tossed up his head, floundered, and went down, hurling his
+rider over his head. Andrew, fascinated, let Sally fall into a walk,
+while he watched the singular, convulsive struggles of Gray Peter to
+gain his feet. Hal Dozier was up again; he ran to his horse, caught his
+head, and at the same moment the stallion grew suddenly limp. The weight
+of his head dragged the marshal down, and then Andrew saw that Dozier
+made no effort to rise again.
+
+He sat with the head of the horse in his lap, his own head buried in his
+hands, and Andrew knew then that Gray Peter was dead.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 32
+
+
+The mare herself was in a far from safe condition. And if the marshal
+had roused himself from his grief and hurried up the slope on foot he
+would have found the fugitive out of the saddle and walking by the side
+of the played-out Sally, forcing her with slaps on the hip to keep in
+motion. She went on, stumbling, her head down, and the sound of her
+breathing was a horrible thing to hear. But she must keep in motion,
+for, if she stopped in this condition, Sally would never run again.
+
+Andrew forced her relentlessly on. At length her head came up a little
+and her breathing was easier and easier. Before dark that night he came
+on a deserted shanty, and there he took Sally under the shelter, and,
+tearing up the floor, he built a fire which dried them both. The
+following day he walked again, with Sally following like a dog at his
+heels. One day later he was in the saddle again, and Sally was herself
+once more. Give her one feed of grain, and she would have run again that
+famous race from beginning to end. But Andrew, stealing out of the
+Roydon mountains into the lower ground, had no thought of another race.
+He was among a district of many houses, many men, and, for the final
+stage of his journey, he waited until after dusk had come and then
+saddled Sally and cantered into the valley.
+
+It was late on the fourth night after he left Los Toros that Andrew came
+again to the house of John Merchant and left Sally in the very place
+among the trees where the pinto had stood before. There was no danger of
+discovery on his approach, for it was a wild night of wind and rain. The
+drizzling mists of the last three days had turned into a steady
+downpour, and rivers of water had been running from his slicker on the
+way to the ranch house. Now he put the slicker behind the saddle, and
+from the shelter of the trees surveyed the house.
+
+It was bursting with music and light; sometimes the front door was
+opened and voices stole out to him; sometimes even through the closed
+door he heard the ghostly tinkling of some girl's laughter.
+
+And that was to Andrew the most melancholy sound in the world.
+
+The rain, trickling even through the foliage of the evergreen, decided
+him to act at once. It might be that all the noise and light were, after
+all, an advantage to him, and, running close to the ground, he skulked
+across the dangerous open stretch and came into the safe shadow of the
+wall of the house.
+
+Once there, it was easy to go up to the roof by one of the rain pipes,
+the same low roof from which he had escaped on the time of his last
+visit. On the roof the rush and drumming of the rain quite covered any
+sound he made, but he was drenched before he reached the window of
+Anne's room. Could he be sure that on her second visit she would have
+the same room? He settled that by a single glance. The curtain was not
+drawn, and a lamp, turned low, burned on the table beside the bed. The
+room was quite empty.
+
+The window was fastened, but he worked back the fastening iron with the
+blade of his knife and raised himself into the room. He closed the
+window behind him. At once the noise of rain and the shouting of the
+wind faded off into a distance, and the voices of the house came more
+clearly to him. But he dared not stay to listen, for the water was
+dripping around him; he must move before a large dark spot showed on the
+carpet, and he saw, moreover, exactly where he could best hide. There
+was a heavily curtained alcove at one end of the room, and behind this
+shelter he hid himself.
+
+And here he waited. How would she come? Would there be someone with her?
+Would she come laughing, with all the triumph of the dance bright in
+her face?
+
+Vaguely he heard the shrill droning of the violins die away beneath him,
+and the slipping of many dancing feet on a smooth floor fell to a
+whisper and then ceased. Voices sounded in the hall, but he gave no heed
+to the meaning of all this. Not even the squawking of horns, as
+automobiles drove away, conveyed any thought to him; he wished that this
+moment could be suspended to an eternity.
+
+Parties of people were going down the hall; he heard soft flights of
+laughter and many young voices. People were calling gaily to one another
+and then by an inner sense rather than by a sound he knew that the door
+was opened into the room. He leaned and looked, and he saw Anne Withero
+close the door behind her and lean against it. In the joy of her triumph
+that evening?
+
+No, her head was fallen, and he saw the gleam of her hand at her breast.
+He could not see her face clearly, but the bent head spoke eloquently of
+defeat. She came forward at length. Thinking of her as the reigning
+power in that dance and all the merriment below him, Andrew had been
+imagining her tall, strong, with compelling eyes commanding admiration.
+He found all at once that she was small, very small; and her hair was
+not that keen fire which he had pictured. It was simply a coppery glow,
+marvelously delicate, molding her face. She went to a great full-length
+mirror. She raised her head for one instant to look at her image, and
+then she bowed her head again and placed her hand against the edge of
+the mirror for support. Little by little, through the half light, he was
+making her out and now the curve of this arm, from wrist to shoulder,
+went through Andrew like a phrase of music. He stepped out from behind
+the curtain, and, at the sound of the cloth swishing back into place,
+she whirled on him.
+
+She was speechless; her raised hand did not fall; it was as if she were
+frozen where she stood.
+
+"I shall leave you at once," said Andrew quietly, "if you are
+frightened. You have only to tell me."
+
+He had come closer. Now he was astonished to see her turn swiftly toward
+the door and touch his arm with her hand. "Hush!" she said. "Hush! They
+may hear you!"
+
+She glided to the door into the hall and turned the lock softly and came
+to him again.
+
+It made Andrew weak to see her so close, and he searched her face with a
+hungry and jealous fear, lest she should be different from his dream of
+her. "You are the same," he said with a sigh of relief. "And you are not
+afraid of me?"
+
+"Hush! Hush!" she repeated. "Afraid of you? Don't you see that I'm
+happy, happy, happy to see you again?"
+
+She drew him forward a little, and her hand touched his as she did so.
+She turned up the lamp, and a flood of strong yellow light went over the
+room. "But you have changed," said Anne Withero with a little cry. "Oh,
+you have changed! They've been hounding you--the cowards!"
+
+"Does it make no difference to you--that I have killed a man."
+
+"Ah, it was that brother to the Dozier man. But I've learned about him.
+He was a bloodhound like his brother, but treacherous. Besides, it was
+in fair fight. Fair fight? It was one against six!"
+
+"Don't," said Andrew, breathing hard, "don't say that! You make me feel
+that it's almost right to have done what I've done. But besides him--all
+the rest--do they make no difference?"
+
+"All of what?"
+
+"People say things about me. They even print them." He winced as he
+spoke.
+
+But she was fierce again; her passion made her tremble.
+
+"When I think of it!" she murmured. "When I think of it, the rotten
+injustice makes me want to choke 'em all! Why, today I heard--I can't
+repeat it. It makes me sick--sick! Why, they've hounded you and bullied
+you until they've made you think you are bad, Andrew. They've even made
+you a little bit proud of the hard things people say about you. Isn't
+that true?"
+
+Was it any wonder that Andrew could not answer? He felt all at once so
+supple that he was hot tallow which those small fingers would mold and
+bend to suit themselves.
+
+"Sit down here!" she commanded.
+
+Meekly he obeyed. He sat on the edge of his chair, with his hat held
+with both hands, and his eyes widened as he stared at her--like a person
+coming out of a great darkness into a great light.
+
+And tears came into the eyes of the girl.
+
+"You're as thin as a starved--wolf," she said, and closed her eyes and
+shuddered. "And all the time I've been thinking of you as you were when
+I saw you here before--the same clear, steady eyes and the same direct
+smile. But they've made you older--they've burned the boy out of you
+with pain! And I've been thinking about you just cantering through wild,
+gay adventures. Are you ill now?"
+
+He had leaned back in the chair and gathered his hat close to his
+breast, crushing it.
+
+"I'm not ill," said Andrew. His voice was hoarse and thick. "I'm just
+listening to you. Go on and talk."
+
+"About you?" asked the girl.
+
+"I don't hear your words--hardly; I just hear the sound you make." He
+leaned forward again and cast out his arm so that the palm of his hand
+was turned up beneath her eyes. She could see the long, lean fingers. It
+suddenly came home to her that every strong man in the mountain desert
+was in deadly terror of that hand. Anne Withero was shaken for the
+first time.
+
+"Listen to me," he was saying in that tense whisper which was oddly like
+the tremor of his hand, "I've been hungry for that voice all these
+weeks--and months."
+
+"I'll tell you what I'm going to do," said the girl, very grave. "I'm
+going to break up this cowardly conspiracy against you. I've written to
+my father to get the finest lawyer in the land and send him out here to
+make you--legal--again."
+
+He began to smile, and shook his head.
+
+"It's no use," he said. "Perhaps your lawyer could help me on account of
+Bill's death, but he couldn't help me from Hal."
+
+"Are you--do you mean you're going to fight the other man, too?"
+
+"He killed his horse chasing me," said Andrew. "I couldn't stop to fight
+him because I was comin' down here to see you. But when I go away I've
+got to find him and give him a chance back at me. It's only fair."
+
+"Because he killed a horse trying to get you, you're going to give him a
+chance to shoot you?"
+
+Her voice had become shrill. She lowered it instinctively toward the end
+and cast a glance of apprehension toward the door.
+
+"You are quite mad," said the girl.
+
+"You don't understand," said Andrew. "His horse was Gray Peter--the
+stallion. And I would rather have killed a man than have seen Gray Peter
+die. Hal had Peter's head in his arms," he added softly. "And he'll
+never give up the trail until he's had it out with me. He wouldn't be
+half a man if he let things drop now."
+
+"So you have to fight Hal Dozier?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"But when that's done--"
+
+"When that's done one of us will be dead. If it's me, of course, there's
+no use worryin'; if it's Hal, of course, I'm done in the eyes of the
+law. Two--murders!"
+
+His eyes glinted and his fingers quivered. It sent a cold thrill through
+the girl.
+
+"But they say he's a terrible man, Andrew. You wouldn't let him catch
+you?"
+
+"I won't stand and wait for him," said Andrew gravely. "But if we fight
+I think I'll kill him."
+
+"What makes you think that?" She was more curious than shocked.
+
+"It's just a sort of feeling that you get when you look at a man; either
+you're his master or you aren't. You see it in a flash."
+
+"Have you ever seen your master?" asked the girl slowly.
+
+"I'll want to die when I see that," he said simply.
+
+Suddenly she clenched her hands and sat straight up.
+
+"It's got to be stopped," she said hotly. "It's all nonsense, and I'm
+going to see that you're both stopped." "Four days ago," he said, "you
+could have taken me in the hollow of your hand. I would have come to you
+and gone from you at a nod. That time is about to end."
+
+He paused a little, and looked at her in such a manner that she was
+frightened, but it was a pleasant fear. It made her interlace her
+fingers with nervous anxiety, but it set a fire in her eyes.
+
+"That time is ending," said Andrew. "You are about to be married."
+
+"And after that you will never look at me again, never think of me
+again?"
+
+"I hope not," he answered. "I strongly hope not."
+
+"But why? Is a marriage a blot or a stain?"
+
+"It is a barrier," he answered.
+
+"Even to thoughts? Even to friendship?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+A very strange thing happened in the excited mind of Anne Withero. It
+seemed to her that Charles Merchant sat, a filmy ghost, beside this
+tattered fugitive. He was speaking the same words that Andrew spoke, but
+his voice and his manner were to Andrew Lanning what moonshine is to
+sunlight. She had been thinking of Charles Merchant as a social asset;
+she began to think of him now as a possessing force. Anne Withero
+possessed by Charlie Merchant!
+
+"What you have told me," she said, "means more than you may think to me.
+Have you come all this distance to tell me?"
+
+"All this distance to talk?" he said. He seemed to sit back and wonder.
+"Have I traveled four days?" he went on. "Has Gray Peter died, and have
+I been under Hal Dozier's rifle only to speak to you?" He suddenly
+recalled himself.
+
+"No, no! I have come to give you a wedding present."
+
+He watched her color change.
+
+"Are you angry? Is it wrong to give you a present?"
+
+"No," she answered in a singular, stifled voice. "It is this watch." It
+was a large gold watch and a chain of very old make that he put into her
+hand. "It is for your son," said Andrew.
+
+She stood up; he rose instinctively.
+
+"When I look at it I'm to remember that you are forgetting me?"
+
+A little hush fell upon them.
+
+"Are you laughing at me, Anne?"
+
+He had never called her by her name before, and yet it came naturally
+upon his lips.
+
+She stood, indeed, with the same smile upon her lips, but her eyes were
+fixed and looked straight past him. And presently he saw a tear pass
+slowly down her face. Her hand remained without moving, with the watch
+in it exactly as he had placed it there.
+
+She had not stirred when he slipped without a noise through the window
+and was instantly swallowed in the rushing of the wind and rain.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 33
+
+
+There was, as Andrew had understood for a long time, a sort of
+underground world of criminals even here on the mountain desert.
+Otherwise the criminals could not have existed for even a moment in the
+face of the organized strength of lawful society. Several times in the
+course of his wanderings Andrew had come in contact with links of the
+underground chain, and he learned what every fugitive learns--the safe
+stopping points in the great circuit of his flight.
+
+Three elements went into the making of that hidden society. There was
+first of all the circulating and active part, and this was composed of
+men actually known to be under the ban of the law and openly defying it.
+Beneath this active group lay a stratum much larger which served as a
+base for the operating criminals. This stratum was built entirely of men
+who had at one time been incriminated in shady dealings of one sort and
+another. It included lawbreakers from every part of the world, men who
+had fled first of all to the shelter of the mountain desert and who had
+lived there until their past was even forgotten in the lands from which
+they came. But they had never lost the inevitable sympathy for their
+more active fellows, and in this class there was included a meaner
+element--men who had in the past committed crimes in the mountain desert
+itself and who, from time to time, when they saw an absolutely safe
+opportunity, were perfectly ready and willing to sin again.
+
+The third and largest of all the elements in the criminal world of the
+desert was a shifting and changing class of men who might be called the
+paid adherents of the active order. The "long riders," acting in groups
+or singly, fled after the commission of a crime and were forced to find
+places of rest and concealment along their journey. Under this grave
+necessity they quickly learned what people on their way could be hired
+as hosts and whose silence and passive aid could be bought. Such men
+were secured in the first place by handsome bribes. And very often they
+joined the ranks unwillingly. But when some peaceful householder was
+confronted by a desperate man, armed, on a weary horse--perhaps stained
+from a wound--the householder was by no means ready to challenge the
+man's right to hospitality. He never knew when the stranger would take
+by force what was refused to him freely, and, if the lawbreaker took by
+force, he was apt to cover his trail by a fresh killing.
+
+Of course, such killings took place only when the "long rider" was a
+desperate brute rather than a man, but enough of them had occurred to
+call up vivid examples to every householder who was accosted. As a rule
+he submitted to receive the unwelcome guest. Also, as a rule, he was
+weak enough to accept a gift when the stranger parted. Once such a gift
+was taken, he was lost. His name was instantly passed on by the fugitive
+to his fellows as a "safe" man. Before long he became, against or with
+his will, a depository of secrets--banned faces became known to him. And
+if he suddenly decided to withdraw from that criminal world his case was
+most precarious.
+
+The "long riders" admitted no neutrals. If a man had once been with them
+he could only leave them to become an enemy. He became open prey. His
+name was published abroad. Then his cattle were apt to disappear. His
+stacks of hay might catch fire unexpectedly at night. His house itself
+might be plundered, and, in not infrequent cases, the man himself was
+brutally murdered. It was part of a code no less binding because it was
+unwritten.
+
+All of this Andrew was more or less aware of, and scores of names had
+been mentioned to him by chance acquaintances of the road. Such names he
+stored away, for he had always felt that time impending of which Henry
+Allister had warned him, the time when he must openly forget his
+scruples and take to a career of crime. That time, he now knew, was
+come upon him.
+
+It would be misrepresenting Andrew to say that he shrank from the
+future. Rather he accepted everything that lay before him
+wholeheartedly, and, with the laying aside of his scruples, there was an
+instant lightening of the heart, a fierce keenness of mind, a contempt
+for society, a disregard for life beginning with his own. One could have
+noted it in the recklessness with which he sent Sally up the slope away
+from the ranch house this night.
+
+He had made up his mind immediately to hunt out a "safe" man, recently
+mentioned to him by that unconscionable scapegrace Harry Woods, crooked
+gambler, thief of small and large, and whilom murderer. The man's name
+was Garry Baldwin, a small rancher, some half day's ride above
+Sullivan's place in the valley. He was recommended as a man of silence.
+In that direction Andrew took his way, but, coming in the hills to a
+dished-out place on a hillside, where there was a natural shelter from
+both wind and rain, he stopped there for the rest of the night, cooked a
+meal, rolled himself in his blankets, and slept into the gray of
+the morning.
+
+No sooner was the first light streaking the horizon to the east than
+Andrew wakened. He saddled Sally and, after a leisurely breakfast,
+started at a jog trot through the hills, taking the upslope with the
+utmost care. For nothing so ruins a horse as hard work uphill at the
+very beginning of the day. He gave Sally her head, and by letting her go
+as she pleased she topped the divide, breathing as easily as if she had
+been walking on the flat. She gave one toss of her head as she saw the
+long, smooth slope ahead of her, and then, without a word from Andrew or
+a touch of his heels, she gave herself up to the long, rocking canter
+which she could maintain so tirelessly for hour on hour.
+
+A clear, cold morning came on. Indeed, it was rarely chill for the
+mountain desert, with a feel of coming snow in the wind. Sally pricked
+one ear as she looked into the north, and Andrew knew that that was a
+sign of trouble coming.
+
+He came in the middle of the morning to the house of Garry Baldwin. It
+was a wretched shack, the roof sagged in the middle, and the building
+had been held from literally falling apart by bolting an iron rod
+through the length of it.
+
+A woman who fitted well into such a background kicked open the door and
+looked up to Andrew with the dishwater still dripping from her red
+hands. He asked for her husband. He was gone from the house. Where, she
+did not know. Somewhere yonder, and her gesture included half the width
+of the horizon to the west. There was his trail, if Andrew wished to
+follow it. For her part, she was busy and could not spare time to
+gossip. At that she stepped back and kicked the door shut with a slam
+that set the whole side of the shack shivering.
+
+At that moment Andrew wondered what he would have done when he lived in
+Martindale if he had been treated in such a manner. He would have
+crimsoned to the eyes, no doubt, and fled from the virago. But now he
+felt neither embarrassment nor fear nor anger. He drew his revolver, and
+with the heavy butt banged loudly on the door. It left three deep dents
+in the wood, and the door was kicked open again. But this time he saw
+only the foot of the woman clad in a man's boot. The door remained open,
+but the hostess kept out of view.
+
+"You be ridin' on, friend," she called in her harsh voice. "Bud, keep
+out'n the kitchen. Stranger, you be ridin' on. I don't know you and I
+don't want to know you. A man that beats on doors with his gun!"
+
+Andrew laughed, and the sound brought her into view, a furious face, but
+a curious face as well. She carried a long rifle slung easily under her
+stout arm.
+
+"What d'you want with Garry?" she asked.
+
+And he replied with a voice equally hard: "I want direction for finding
+Scar-faced Allister."
+
+He watched that shot shake her.
+
+"You do? You got a hell of a nerve askin' around here for Allister!
+Slope, kid, slope. You're on a cold trail."
+
+"Wait a minute," protested Andrew. "You need another look at me."
+
+"I can see all there is to you the first glance," said the woman calmly.
+"Why should I look again?"
+
+"To see the reward," said Andrew bitterly. He laughed again. "I'm Andrew
+Lanning. Ever hear of me?"
+
+It was obvious that she had. She blinked and winced as though the name
+stunned her. "Lanning!" she said. "Why, you ain't much more'n a kid.
+Lanning! And you're him?"
+
+All at once she melted.
+
+"Slide off your hoss and come in, Andy," she said. "Dogged if I knew you
+at all!"
+
+"Thanks. I want to find Allister and I'm in a hurry."
+
+"So you and him are goin' to team it? That'll be high times! Come here,
+Bud. Look at Andy Lanning. That's him on the horse right before you."
+
+A scared, round face peered out at Andrew from behind his mother. "All
+right, partner. I'll tell you where to find him pretty close. He'll be
+up the gulch along about now. You know the old shack up there? You can
+get to him inside three hours--with that hoss." She stopped and eyed
+Sally. "Is that the one that run Gray Peter to death? She don't look the
+part, but them long, low hosses is deceivin'. Can't you stay, Andy?
+Well, s'long. And give Allister a good word from Bess Baldwin. Luck!"
+
+He waved, and was gone at a brisk gallop.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 34
+
+
+It was not yet noon when he entered the gulch, he was part way up the
+ravine when something moved at the top of the high wall to his right. He
+guessed at once that it was a lookout signaling the main party of the
+approach of a stranger, so Andrew stopped Sally with a word and held his
+hand high above his head, facing the point from which he had seen the
+movement. There was a considerable pause; then a man showed on the top
+of the cliff, and Andrew recognized Jeff Rankin by his red hair. Yet
+they were at too great a distance for conversation, and after waving a
+greeting, Rankin merely beckoned Andrew on his way up the valley.
+Around the very next bend of the ravine he found the camp. It was of the
+most impromptu character, and the warning of Rankin had caused them to
+break it up precipitately, as Andrew could see by one length of
+tarpaulin tossed, without folding, over a saddle. Each of the four was
+ready, beside his horse, for flight or for attack, as their outlook on
+the cliff should give signal. But at sight of Andrew and the bay mare a
+murmur, then a growl of interest went among them. Even Larry la Roche
+grinned a skull-like welcome, and Henry Allister actually ran forward to
+receive the newcomer. Andrew dropped out of the saddle and shook
+hands with him.
+
+"I've done as you said I would," said Andrew. "I've run in a circle,
+Allister, and now I'm back to make one of you, if you still want me."
+
+Allister, laughing joyously, turned to the other three and repeated the
+question to them. There was only one voice in answer.
+
+"Want you?" said Allister, and his smile made Andrew almost forget the
+scar which twisted the otherwise handsome face. "Want you? Why, man, if
+we've been beyond the law up to this time, we can laugh at the law now.
+Sit down. Hey, Scottie, shake up the fire and put on some coffee, will
+you? We'll take an hour off."
+
+Larry la Roche was observed to make a dour face.
+
+"Who'll tell me it's lucky," he said, "to have a gent that starts out by
+makin' us all stop on the trail? Is that a good sign?"
+
+But Scottie, with laughter, hushed him. Yet Larry la Roche remained of
+all the rest quite silent during the making of the coffee and the
+drinking of it. The others kept up a running fire of comments and
+questions, but Larry la Roche, as though he had never forgiven Andrew
+for their first quarrel, remained with his long, bony chin dropped upon
+his breast and followed the movements of Andrew Lanning with
+restless eyes.
+
+The others were glad to see him, as Andrew could tell at a glance, but
+also they were a bit troubled, and by degrees he made out the reason.
+Strange as it seemed, they regretted that he had not been able to make
+his break across the mountains. His presence made them more impregnable
+than they had ever been under the indomitable Allister, and yet, more
+than the aid of his fighting hand, they would have welcomed the tidings
+of a man who had broken away from the shadow of the law and made good.
+For each of the fallen wishes to feel that his exile is self-terminable.
+
+And therefore Andrew, telling his story to them in brief, found that
+they were not by any means filled with unmixed pleasure. Joe Clune, with
+his bright brown hair of youth and his lined, haggard face of worn
+middle age, summed up their sentiments at the end of Andrew's story:
+"You're what we need with us, Lanning. You and Allister will beat the
+world, and it means high times for the rest of us, but God pity
+you--that's all!"
+
+The pause that followed this solemn speech was to Andrew like an amen.
+He glanced from face to face, and each stern eye met his in
+gloomy sympathy.
+
+Then something shot through him which was to his mind what red is to the
+eye; it was a searing touch of reckless indifference, defiance.
+
+"Forget this prayer-meeting talk," said Andrew. "I came up here for
+action, not mourning. I want something to do with my hands, not
+something to think about with my head!"
+
+Something to think about! It was like a terror behind him. If he should
+have long quiet it would steal on him and look at him over his shoulder
+like a face. A little of this showed in his face; enough to make the
+circle flash significant glances at one another.
+
+"You got something behind you, Andy," said Scottie. "Come out with it.
+It ain't too bad for us to hear."
+
+"There's something behind me," said Andrew. "It's the one really decent
+part of my life. And I don't want to think about it. Allister, they say
+you never let the grass grow under you. What's on your hands now?"
+
+"Somebody has been flattering me," said the leader quietly, and all the
+time he kept studying the face of Andrew. "We have a little game ahead,
+if you want to come in on it. We're shorthanded, but I'd try it with
+you. That makes us six all told. Six enough, boys?"
+
+"Count me half of one," said Larry la Roche. "I don't feel lucky about
+this little party."
+
+"We'll count you two times two," replied the leader. He added: "You boys
+play a game; I'm going to break in Lanning to our job."
+
+Taking his horse, he and Andrew rode at a walk up the ravine. On the way
+the leader explained his system briefly and clearly. Told in short, he
+worked somewhat as follows: Instead of raiding blindly right and left,
+he only moved when he had planned every inch of ground for the advance
+and the blow and the retreat. To make sure of success and the size of
+his stakes he was willing to invest heavily.
+
+"Big business men sink half a year's income in their advertising. I do
+the same."
+
+It was not public advertising; it was money cunningly expended where it
+would do most good. Fifty per cent of the money the gang earned was laid
+away to make future returns surer. In twenty places Allister had his
+paid men who, working from behind the scenes, gained priceless
+information and sent word of it to the outlaw. Trusted officials in
+great companies were in communication with him. When large shipments of
+gold were to be made, for instance, he was often warned beforehand.
+Every dollar of the consignment was known to him, the date of its
+shipment, its route, and the hands to which it was supposed to fall. Or,
+again, in many a bank and prosperous mercantile firm in the mountain
+desert he had inserted his paid spies, who let him know when the safe
+was crammed with cash and by what means the treasure was guarded.
+
+Not until he had secured such information did the leader move. And he
+still delayed until every possible point of friction had been noted,
+every danger considered, and a check appointed for it, every method of
+advance and retreat gone over.
+
+"A good general," Allister was fond of saying, "plans in two ways: for
+an absolute victory and for an absolute defeat. The one enables him to
+squeeze the last ounce of success out of a triumph; the other keeps a
+failure from turning into a catastrophe."
+
+With everything arranged for the stroke, he usually posted himself with
+the band as far as possible from the place where the actual work was to
+be done. Then he made a feint in the opposite direction--he showed
+himself or a part of his gang recklessly. The moment the alarm was
+given--even at the risk of having an entire hostile countryside around
+him--he started a whirlwind course in the opposite direction from which
+he was generally supposed to be traveling. If possible, at the ranches
+of adherents, or at out-of-the-way places where confederates could act,
+he secured fresh horses and dashed on at full speed all the way.
+
+Then, at the very verge of the place for attack, he gathered his men,
+rehearsed in detail what each man was to do, delivered the blow, secured
+the spoils, and each man of the party split away from the others and
+fled in scattering directions, to assemble again at a distant point on a
+comparatively distant date. There they sat down around a council table,
+and there they divided the spoils. No matter how many were employed, no
+matter how vast a proportion of the danger and scheming had been borne
+by the leader, he took no more than two shares. Then fifty per cent of
+the prize was set aside. The rest was divided with an exact care among
+the remaining members of the gang. The people who had supplied the
+requisite information for the coup were always given their share.
+
+From this general talk Allister descended to particulars. He talked of
+the gang itself. They were quite a fixed quantity. In the last half
+dozen years there had not been three casualties. For one thing, he chose
+his men with infinite care; in the second place, he saw to it that they
+remained in harmony, and to that end he was careful never to be tempted
+into forming an unwieldy crew, no matter how large the prize. Of the
+present organization each was an expert. Larry la Roche had been a
+counterfeiter and was a consummate penman. His forgeries were works of
+art. "Have you noticed his hands?"
+
+Scottie Macdougal was an eminent advance agent, whose smooth tongue was
+the thing for the very dangerous and extremely important work of trying
+out new sources of information, noting the dependability of those
+sources, and understanding just how far and in what line the tools could
+be used. Joe Clune was a past expert in the blowing of safes; not only
+did he know everything that was to be known about means of guarding
+money and how to circumvent them, but he was an artist with the "soup,"
+as Allister called nitroglycerin.
+
+Jeff Rankin, without a mental equipment to compare with his companions,
+was often invaluable on account of his prodigious strength. Under the
+strain of his muscles, iron bars bent like hot wax. In addition he had
+more than his share of an ability which all the members of the gang
+possessed--an infinite cunning in the use of weapons and a
+star-storming courage and self-confidence.
+
+"And where," said Andrew at the end of this long recital, "do I fit in?"
+
+"You begin," said Allister, "as the least valuable of my men; before six
+months you will be worth the whole set of 'em. You'll start as my
+lieutenant, Lanning. The boys expect it. You've built up a reputation
+that counts. They admit your superiority without question. Larry la
+Roche squirms under the weight of it, but he admits it like the rest of'
+em. In a pinch they would obey you nearly as well as they obey me. It
+means that, having you to take charge, I can do what I've always wanted
+to do--I can give the main body the slip and go off for advance-guard
+and rear-guard duty. I don't dare to do it now.
+
+"Do you know why? Those fellows yonder, who seem so chummy, would be at
+each other's throats in ten seconds if I weren't around to keep them in
+order. I know why you're here, Lanning. It isn't the money. It's the
+cursed fear of loneliness and the fear of having time to think. You want
+action, action to fill your mind and blind you. That's what I offer you.
+You're the keeper of the four wildcats you see over there. You start in
+with their respect. Let them lose their fear of you for a moment and
+they'll go for you. Treat them like men; think of them as wild beasts.
+That's what they are. The minute they know you're without your whip they
+go for you like tigers at a wounded trainer. One taste of meat is all
+they need to madden them. It's different with me. I'm wild, too."
+
+His eyes gleamed at Andrew.
+
+"And, if they raise you, I think they'll find you've more iron hidden
+away in you than I have. But the way they'll find it out will be in an
+explosion that will wipe them out. You've got to handle them without
+that explosion, Lanning. Can you do it?"
+
+The younger man moistened his lips. "I think this job is going to prove
+worth while," he returned.
+
+"Very well, then. But there are penalties in your new position. In a
+pinch you've got to do what I do--see that they have food enough--go
+without sleep if one of them needs your blankets--if any of 'em gets in
+trouble, even into a jail, you've got to get him out."
+
+"Better still," smiled Andrew.
+
+"And now," said the leader, "I'll tell you about our next job as we go
+back to the boys."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 35
+
+
+It was ten days later when the band dropped out of the mountains into
+the Murchison Pass--a singular place for a train robbery, Andrew could
+not help thinking. They were at the southwestern end of the pass, where
+the mountains gave back in a broad gap. Below them, not five miles away,
+was the city of Gidding Creek; they could see its buildings and parks
+tumbled over a big area, for there was a full twenty-five thousand of
+inhabitants in Gidding Creek. Indeed, the whole country was dotted with
+villages and towns, for it was no longer a cattle region, but a
+semifarming district cut up into small tracts. One was almost never out
+of sight of at least one house.
+
+It worried Andrew, this closely built country, and he knew that it
+worried the other men as well; yet there had not been a single murmur
+from among them as they jogged their horses on behind Allister. Each of
+them was swathed from head to heels in a vast slicker that spread
+behind, when the wind caught it, as far as the tail of the horse. And
+the rubber creaked and rustled softly. Whatever they might have been
+inclined to think of this daring raid into the heart of a comparatively
+thickly populated country, they were too accustomed to let the leader do
+their thinking for them to argue the point with him. And Andrew followed
+blindly enough. He saw, indeed, one strong point in their favor. The
+very fact that the train was coming out of the heart of the mountains,
+through ravines which afforded a thousand places for assault, would make
+the guards relax their attention as they approached Gidding Creek. And,
+though there were many people in the region, they were a fat and
+inactive populace, not comparable with the lean fellows of the north.
+
+There was bitter work behind them. Ten days before they had made a feint
+to the north of Martindale that was certain to bring out Hal Dozier;
+then they doubled about and had plodded steadily south, choosing always
+the most desolate ground for their travel. There had been two changes of
+horses for the others, but Andrew kept to Sally. To her that journey was
+play after the labor she had passed through before; the iron dust of
+danger and labor was in her even as it was in Andrew. Three in all that
+party were fresh at the end of the long trail. They were Allister,
+Sally, and Andrew. The others were poisoned with weariness, and their
+tempers were on edge; they kept an ugly silence, and if one of them
+happened to jostle the horse of the other, there was a flash of teeth
+and eyes--a silent warning. The sixth man was Scottie, who had long
+since been detached from the party. His task was one which, if he failed
+in it, would make all that long ride go for nothing. He was to take the
+train far up, ride down as blind baggage to the Murchison Pass, and then
+climb over the tender into the cab, stick up the fireman and the
+engineer, and make them bring the engine to a halt at the mouth of the
+pass, with Gidding Creek and safety for all that train only five minutes
+away. There was a touch of the Satanic in this that pleased Andrew and
+made Allister show his teeth in self-appreciation.
+
+So perfectly had their journey been timed that the train was due in a
+very few minutes. They disposed their horses in the thicket, and then
+went back to take up their position in the ambush. The plan of work was
+carefully divided. To Jeff Rankin, that nicely accurate shot and bulldog
+fighter, fell what seemed to be a full half of the total risk and labor.
+He was to go to the blind side of the job. In other words, he was to
+guard the opposite side of the train to that on which the main body
+advanced. It was always possible that when a train was held up the
+passengers--at least the unarmed portion, and perhaps even some of the
+armed men--would break away on the least threatened side. Jeff Rankin on
+that blind side was to turn them back with a hurricane of bullets from
+his magazine rifle. Firing from ambush and moving from place to place,
+he would seem more than one man. Probably three or four shots would turn
+back the mob. In the meantime, having made the engineer and fireman stop
+the train, Scottie would be making them continue to flood the fire box.
+This would delay the start of the engine on its way and gain precious
+moments for the fugitives. Two of the band would be thus employed while
+Larry la Roche went through the train and turned out the passengers.
+There was no one like Larry for facing a crowd and cowing it. His
+spectral form, his eyes burning through the holes in his mask, stripped
+them of any idea of resistance.
+
+While the crowd turned out, Andrew, standing opposite the middle of the
+train, rifle in hand, would line them up, while Allister and Joe Clune
+attended to overpowering the guards of the safe, and Larry la Roche came
+out and went through the line of passengers for personal valuables, and
+Clune and Allister fixed the soup to blow the safe. Last of all, there
+was the explosion, the carrying off of the coin in its canvas sacks to
+the horses. Each man was to turn his horse in a direction carefully
+specified, and, riding in a roundabout manner, which was also named, he
+was to keep on until he came, five days later, to a deserted, ruinous
+shack far up in the mountains on the side of the Twin Eagles peaks.
+
+These were the instructions which Allister went over carefully with each
+member of his crew before they went to their posts. There had been
+twenty rehearsals before, and each man was letter perfect. They took
+their posts, and Allister came to the side of Andrew among the trees.
+
+"How are you?" he asked.
+
+"Scared to death," said Andrew truthfully. "I'd give a thousand dollars,
+if I had it, to be free of this job."
+
+Andrew saw that hard glint come in the eyes of the leader.
+
+"You'll do--later," nodded Allister. "But keep back from the crowd.
+Don't let them see you get nervous when they turn out of the coaches. If
+you show a sign of wavering they might start something. Once they make a
+surge, shooting won't stop 'em."
+
+Andrew nodded. There was more practical advice on the heels of this.
+Then they stood quietly and waited.
+
+For days and days a northeaster had been blowing; it had whipped little
+drifts of rain and mist that stung the face and sent a chill to the
+bone, and, though there had been no actual downpour, the cold and the
+wet had never broken since the journey started. Now the wind came like a
+wolf down the Murchison Pass, howling and moaning. Andrew, closing his
+eyes, felt that the whole thing was dreamlike. Presently he would open
+his eyes and find himself back beside the fire in the house of Uncle
+Jasper, with the old man prodding his shoulder and telling him that it
+was bedtime. When he opened his eyes, in fact, they fell upon a
+solitary pine high up on the opposite slope, above the thicket where
+Jeff Rankin was hiding. It was a sickly tree, half naked of branches,
+and it shivered like a wretched animal in the wind. Then a new sound
+came down the pass, wolflike, indeed; it was repeated more clearly--the
+whistle of a train.
+
+It was the signal arranged among them for putting on the masks, and
+Andrew hastily adjusted his.
+
+"Did you hear that?" asked Allister as the train hooted in the distance
+again.
+
+Andrew turned and started at the ghostly thing which had been the face
+of the outlaw a moment before; he himself must look like that, he knew.
+
+"What?" he asked.
+
+"That voicelike whistle," said Allister. "There's no luck in this
+day--for me."
+
+"You've listened to Larry la Roche too much," said Andrew. "He's been
+growling ever since we started on this trail."
+
+"No, no!" returned Allister. "It's another thing, an older thing than
+Larry la Roche. My mother--"
+
+He stopped. Whatever it was that he was about to say, Andrew was never
+to hear it. The train had turned the long bend above, and now the roar
+of its wheels filled the canyon and covered the sound of the wind.
+
+It looked vast as a mountain as it came, rocking perceptibly on the
+uneven roadbed. It rounded the curve, the tail of the train flicked
+around, and it shot at full speed straight for the mouth of the pass.
+How could one man stop it? How could five men attack it after it was
+stopped? It was like trying to storm a medieval fortress with a popgun.
+
+The great black front of the engine came rocking toward them, gathering
+impetus on the sharp grade. Had Scottie missed his trick? But when the
+thunder of the iron on iron was deafening Andrew, and the engine seemed
+almost upon them, there was a cloud of white vapor that burst out on
+either side of it and the brakes were jumped on; the wheels skidded,
+screaming on the tracks. The engine lurched past; Andrew caught a
+glimpse of Scottie, a crouched, masked form in the cab of the engine,
+with a gun in either hand. For Scottie was one of the few natural
+two-gun men that Andrew was ever to know. The engineer and the fireman
+he saw only as two shades before they were whisked out of his view. The
+train rumbled on; then it went from half speed to a stop with one jerk
+that brought a cry from the coaches. During the next second there was
+the successive crashing of couplings as the coaches took up their slack.
+
+Andrew, stepping out with his rifle balanced in his hands, saw Larry la
+Roche whip into the rear car. Then he himself swept the windows of the
+train, blurred by the mist, with the muzzle of his gun, keeping the butt
+close to his shoulder, ready for a swift snapshot in any direction. In
+fact, his was that very important post, the reserve force, which was to
+come instantly to the aid of any overpowered section of the active
+workers. He had rebelled against this minor task, but Allister had
+assured him that, in former times, it was the place which he took
+himself to meet crises in the attack.
+
+The leader had gone with Joe Clune straight for the front car. How would
+they storm it? Two guards, armed to the teeth, would be in it, and the
+door was closed.
+
+But the guards had no intention to remain like rats in a trap, while the
+rest of the train was overpowered and they themselves were blasted into
+small bits with a small charge of soup. The door jerked open, the
+barrels of two guns protruded. Andrew, thrilling with horror, recognized
+one as a sawed-off shotgun. He saw now the meaning of the manner in
+which Allister and Clune made their attack. For Allister had run slowly
+straight for the door, while Clune skirted in close to the cars, going
+more swiftly. As the gun barrels went up Allister plunged headlong to
+the ground, and the volley of shot missed him cleanly; but Clune the
+next moment leaped out from the side of the car, and, thereby getting
+himself to an angle from which he could deliver a cross fire, pumped two
+bullets through the door. Andrew saw a figure throw up its arms, a
+shadow form in the interior of the car, and then a man pitched out
+headlong through the doorway and flopped with horrible limpness on the
+roadbed. While this went on Allister had snapped a shot, while he still
+lay prone, and his single bullet brought a scream. The guards were
+done for.
+
+Two deaths, Andrew supposed. But presently a man was sent out of the car
+at the point of Clune's revolver. He climbed down with difficulty,
+clutching one hand with the other. He had been shot in the most painful
+place in the body--the palm of the hand. Allister turned over the other
+form with a brutal carelessness that sickened Andrew. But the man had
+been only stunned by a bullet that plowed its way across the top of his
+skull. He sat up now with a trickle running down his face. A gesture
+from Andrew's rifle made him and his companion realize that they were
+covered, and, without attempting any further resistance, they sat side
+by side on the ground and tended to each other's wounds--a ludicrous
+group for all their suffering.
+
+In the meantime, Clune and Allister were at work in the car; the water
+was hissing in the fire box as a vast cloud of steam came rushing out
+around the engine; the passengers were pouring out of the cars. They
+acted like a group of actors, carefully rehearsed for the piece. Not
+once did Andrew have to speak to them, while they ranged in a solid
+line, shoulder to shoulder, men, women, children. And then Larry la
+Roche went down the line with a saddlebag and took up the collection.
+"Passin' the hat so often has give me a religious touch, ladies and
+gents," Andrew heard the ruffian say. "Any little contributions I'm sure
+grateful for, and, if anything's held back, I'm apt to frisk the gent
+that don't fork over. Hey, you, what's that lump inside your coat? Lady,
+don't lie. I seen you drop it inside your dress. Why, it's a nice little
+set o' sparklers. That ain't nothin' to be ashamed of. Come on, please;
+a little more speed. Easy there, partner; don't take both them hands
+down at once. You can peel the stuff out of your pockets with one hand,
+I figure. Conductor, just lemme see your wallet. Thanks! Hate to bother
+you, ma'am, but you sure ain't traveling on this train with only
+eighty-five cents in your pocketbook. Just lemme have a look at the
+rest. See if you can't find it in your stocking. No, they ain't anything
+here to make you blush. You're among friends, lady; a plumb friendly
+crowd. Your poor old pa give you this to go to school on, did he? Son,
+you're gettin' a pile more education out of this than you would in
+college. No, honey, you just keep your locket. It ain't worth five
+dollars. Did you? That jeweler ought to have my job, 'cause he sure
+robbed you! You call that watch an heirloom? Heirloom is my middle name,
+miss. Just get them danglers out'n your ears, lady. Thanks! Don't hurry,
+mister; you'll bust the chain."
+
+His monologue was endless; he had a comment for every person in the
+line, and he seemed to have a seventh sense for concealed articles. The
+saddlebag was bulging before he was through. At the same time Allister
+and Clune jumped from the car and ran. Larry la Roche gave the warning.
+Every one crouched or lay down. The soup exploded. The top of the car
+lifted. It made Andrew think, foolishly enough, of someone tipping a
+hat. It fell slowly, with a crash that was like a faint echo of the
+explosion. Clune ran back, and they could hear his shrill yell of
+delight: "It ain't a safe!" he exclaimed. "It's a baby mint!"
+
+And a baby mint it was! It was a gold shipment. Gold coin runs about
+ninety pounds to ten thousand dollars, and there was close to a hundred
+pounds apiece for each of the bandits. It was the largest haul
+Allister's gang had ever made. Larry la Roche left the pilfering of the
+passengers and went to help carry the loot. They brought it out in
+little loose canvas bags and went on the run with it to the horses.
+
+Someone was speaking. It was the gray-headed man with the glasses and
+the kindly look about the eyes. "Boys, it's the worst little game you've
+ever worked. I promise you we'll keep on your trail until we've run you
+all into the ground. That's really something to remember. I speak for
+Gregg and Sons."
+
+"Partner," said Scottie Macdougal from the cab, where he still kept the
+engineer and fireman covered, "a little hunt is like an after-dinner
+drink to me."
+
+To the utter amazement of Andrew the whole crowd--the crowd which had
+just been carefully and systematically robbed--burst into laughter. But
+this was the end. There was Allister's whistle; Jeff Rankin ran around
+from the other side of the train; the gang faded instantly into the
+thicket. Andrew, as the rear guard--his most ticklish moment--backed
+slowly toward the trees. Once there was a waver in the line, such as
+precedes a rush. He stopped short, and a single twitch of his rifle
+froze the waverers in their tracks.
+
+Once inside the thicket a yell came from the crowd, but Andrew had
+whirled and was running at full speed. He could hear the others crashing
+away. Sally, as he had taught her, broke into a trot as he approached,
+and the moment he struck the saddle she was in full gallop. Guns were
+rattling behind him; random shots cut the air sometimes close to him,
+but not one of the whole crowd dared venture beyond that unknown
+screen of trees.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 36
+
+
+To Andrew the last danger of the holdup had been assigned as the rear
+guard, and he was the last man to pass Allister. The leader had drawn
+his horse to one side a couple of miles down the valley, and, as each of
+his band passed him, he raised his hand in silent greeting. It was the
+last Andrew saw of him, a ghostly figure sitting his horse with his hand
+above his head. After that his mind was busied by his ride, for, having
+the finest mount in the crowd, to him had been assigned the longest and
+the most roundabout route to reach the Twin Eagles.
+
+Yet he covered so much ground with Sally that, instead of needing the
+full five days to make the rendezvous, he could afford to loaf the last
+stage of the journey. Even at that, he camped in sight of the cabin on
+the fourth night, and on the morning of the fifth he was the first man
+at the shack.
+
+Jeff Rankin came in next. To Jeff, on account of his unwieldy bulk, had
+been assigned the shortest route; yet even so he dismounted, staggering
+and limping from his horse, and collapsed on the pile of boughs which
+Andrew had spent the morning cutting for a bed. As he dropped he tossed
+his bag of coins to the floor. It fell with a melodious jingling that
+was immediately drowned by Jeff's groans; the saddle was torture to him,
+and now he was aching in every joint of his enormous body. "A nice
+haul--nothin' to kick about," was Jeff's opinion. "But Caesar's
+ghost--what a ride! The chief makes this thing too hard on a gent that
+likes to go easy, Andy."
+
+Andrew said nothing; silence had been his cue ever since he began acting
+as lieutenant to the chief. It had seemed to baffle the others; it
+baffled the big man now. Later on Joe Clune and Scottie came in
+together. That was about noon--they had met each other an hour before.
+But Allister had not come in, although he was usually the first at a
+rendezvous. Neither did Larry la Roche come. The day wore on; the
+silence grew on the group. When Andrew, proportioning the work for
+supper, sent Joe to get wood, Jeff for water, and began himself to work
+with Scottie on the cooking, he was met with ugly looks and hesitation
+before they obeyed. Something, he felt most decidedly, was in the air.
+And when Joe and Rankin came back slowly, walking side by side and
+talking in soft voices, his suspicions were given an edge.
+
+They wanted to eat together; but he forced Scottie to take post on the
+high hill to their right to keep lookout, and for this he received
+another scowl. Then, when supper was half over, Larry la Roche came in
+to camp. News came with him, an atmosphere of tidings around his gloomy
+figure, but he cast himself down by the fire and ate and drank in
+silence, until his hunger was gone. Then he tossed his tin dishes away
+and they fell clattering on the rocks.
+
+"Pick 'em up," said Andrew quietly. "We'll have no litter around this
+camp." Larry la Roche stared at him in hushed malevolence. "Stand up and
+get 'em," repeated Andrew. As he saw the big hands of Larry twitching he
+smiled across the fire at the tall, bony figure. "I'll give you two
+seconds to get 'em," he said.
+
+One deadly second pulsed away, then Larry crumpled. He caught up his tin
+cup and the plate. "We'll talk later about you," he said ominously.
+
+"We'll talk about something else first," said Andrew. "You've seen
+Allister?"
+
+At first it seemed that La Roche would not speak; then his wide, thin
+lips writhed back from his teeth. "Yes."
+
+"Where is he?" "Gone to the happy hunting grounds."
+
+The silence came and the pulse in it. One by one, by a natural instinct,
+the men looked about them sharply into the night and made sure of their
+weapons. It was the only tribute to the memory of Allister from his men,
+but tears and praise could not have been more eloquent. He had made
+these men fearless of the whole world. Now were they ready to jump at
+the passage of a shadow. They looked at each other with strange eyes.
+
+"Who? How many?" asked Jeff Rankin.
+
+"One man done it."
+
+"Hal Dozier?" said Andrew.
+
+"Him," said Larry la Roche. He went on, looking gloomily down at the
+fire. "He got me first. The chief must of seen him get me by surprise,
+while I was down off my hoss, lying flat and drinking out of a creek!"
+He closed his great, bony fist in unspeakable agony at the thought.
+"Dozier come behind and took me. Frisked me. Took my guns, not the coin.
+We went down through the hills. Then the chief slid out of a shadow and
+come at us like a tiger. I sloped."
+
+"You left Allister to fight alone?" said Scottie Macdougal quietly, for
+he had come from his lookout to listen.
+
+"I had no gun," said Larry, without raising his eyes from the fire. "I
+sloped. I looked back and seen Allister sitting on his hoss, dead still.
+Hal Dozier was sittin' on his hoss, dead still. Five seconds, maybe.
+Then they went for their guns together. They was two bangs like one. But
+Allister slid out of his saddle and Dozier stayed in his. I come
+on here."
+
+The quiet covered them. Joe Clune, with a shudder and another glance
+over his shoulder, cast a branch on the fire, and the flames leaped.
+
+"Dozier knows you're with us," added Larry la Roche, and he cast a long
+glance of hatred at Andrew. "He knows you're with us, and he knows our
+luck left us when you come."
+
+Andrew looked about the circle; not an eye met his.
+
+The talk of Larry la Roche during the days of the ride was showing its
+effect now. The gage had been thrown down to Andrew, and he dared not
+pick it up.
+
+"Boys," he said, "I'll say this: Are we going to bust up and each man go
+his way?"
+
+There was no answer.
+
+"If we do, we can split the profits over again. I'll take no money out
+of a thing that cost Allister's death. There's my sack on the floor of
+the shack. Divvy it up among you. You fitted me out when I was broke.
+That'll pay you back. Do we split up?"
+
+"They's no reason why we should--and be run down like rabbits," said Joe
+Clune, with another of those terrible glances over his shoulder into
+the night.
+
+The others assented with so many growls.
+
+"All right," said Andrew, "we stick together. And, if we stick together,
+I run this camp."
+
+"You?" asked Larry la Roche. "Who picked you? Who 'lected you, son? Why,
+you unlucky--"
+
+"Ease up," said Andrew softly.
+
+The eyes of La Roche flicked across the circle and picked up the glances
+of the others, but they were not yet ready to tackle Andrew Lanning.
+
+"The last thing Allister did," said Andrew, "was to make me his
+lieutenant. It's the last thing he did, and I'm going to push it
+through. Not because I like the job." He raised his head, but not his
+voice. "They may run down the rest of you. They won't run down me. They
+can't. They've tried, and they can't. And I might be able to keep the
+rest of you clear. I'm going to try. But I won't follow the lead of any
+of you. If there'd been one that could keep the rest of you together,
+d'you think Allister wouldn't have seen it? Don't you think he would of
+made that one leader? Why, look at you! Jeff, you'd follow Clune. But
+would Larry or Scottie follow Clune? Look at 'em and see!"
+
+All eyes went to Clune, and then the glances of Scottie and La Roche
+dropped.
+
+"Nobody here would follow La Roche. He's the best man we've got for some
+of the hardest work, but you're too flighty with your temper, Larry, and
+you know it. We respect you just as much, but not to plan things for the
+rest of us. Is that straight?
+
+"And you, Scottie," said Andrew, "you're the only one I'd follow. I say
+that freely. But who else would follow you? You're the best of us all at
+headwork and planning, but you don't swing your gun as fast, and you
+don't shoot as straight as Jeff or Larry or Joe. Is that straight?"
+
+"What's leading the gang got to do with fighting?" asked Scottie
+harshly. "And who's got the right to the head of things but me?"
+
+"Ask Allister what fighting had to do with the running of things," said
+Andrew calmly.
+
+The moon was sliding up out of the east; it changed the faces of the men
+and made them oddly animallike; they stared, fascinated, at Andrew.
+
+"There's two reasons why I'm going to run this job, if we stick
+together. Allister named them once. I can take advice from any one of
+you; I know what each of you can do; I can plan a job for you; I can
+lead you clear of the law--and there's not one of you that can bully me
+or make me give an inch--no, nor all of you together--La Roche!
+Macdougal! Clune! Rankin!"
+
+It was like a roll call, and at each name a head was jerked up in
+answer, and two glittering eyes flashed at Andrew--flashed, sparkled,
+and then became dull. The moonlight had made his pale skin a deadly
+white, and it was a demoniac face they saw. The silence was his answer.
+
+"Jeff," he commanded, "take the hill. You'll stand the watch tonight.
+And look sharp. If Dozier got Allister he's apt to come at us. Step
+on it!"
+
+And Jeff Rankin rose without a word and lumbered to the top of the hill.
+Larry la Roche suddenly filled his cup with boiling hot coffee,
+regardless of the heat, regardless of the dirt in the cup. His hand
+shook when he raised it to his lips.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 37
+
+
+There was no further attempt at challenging his authority. When he
+ordered Clune and La Roche to bring in boughs for bedding--since they
+were to stop in the shack overnight--they went silently. But it was such
+a silence as comes when the wind falls at the end of a day and in a
+silent sky the clouds pile heavily, higher and higher. Andrew took the
+opportunity to speak to Scottie Macdougal. He told Scottie simply that
+he needed him, and with him at his back he could handle the others, and
+more, too. He was surprised to see a twinkle in the eye of the
+Scotchman.
+
+"Why, Andy," said the canny fellow, "didn't you see me pass you the
+wink? I was with you all the time!"
+
+Andrew thanked him and went into the cabin to arrange for lights. He had
+no intention of shirking a share in the actual work of the camp; even
+though Allister had set that example for his following. He took some
+lengths of pitchy pine sticks and arranged them for torches. One of them
+alone would send a flare of yellow light through the cabin; two made a
+comfortable illumination. But he worked cheerlessly. The excitement of
+the robbery and the chase was over, and then the conflict with the men
+was passing. He began to see things truly by the drab light of
+retrospection. The bullets of Allister and Clune might have gone home--
+they were intended to kill, not to wound. And if there had been two
+deaths he, Andrew Lanning, would have been equally guilty with the men
+who handled the guns, for he had been one of the forces which made that
+shooting possible.
+
+It was an ugly way to look at it--very ugly. It kept a frown on Andrew's
+face, while he arranged the torches in the main room of the shack and
+then put one for future reference in the little shed which leaned
+against the rear of the main structure. He arranged his own bed in this
+second room, where the saddles and other accouterments were piled. It
+was easily explained, since there was hardly room for five men in the
+first room. But he had another purpose. He wanted to separate himself
+from the others, just as Allister always did. Even in a crowded room
+Allister would seem aloof, and Andrew determined to make the famous
+leader his guide.
+
+Above all he was troubled by what Scottie had said. He would have felt
+easy at heart if the Scotchman had met him with an argument or with a
+frown or honest opposition or with a hearty handshake, to say that all
+was well between them. But this cunning lie--this cunning protestation
+that he had been with the new leader from the first, put Andrew on his
+guard. For he knew perfectly well that Scottie had not been on his side
+during the crisis with La Roche. Macdougal sat before the door, his
+metal flask of whisky beside him. It was a fault of Allister, this
+permitting of whisky at all times and in all places, after a job was
+finished. And while it made the other men savage beasts, it turned
+Scottie Macdougal into a wily, smiling snake. He had bit the heel of
+more than one man in his drinking bouts.
+
+Presently La Roche and Clune came in. They had been talking together
+again. Andrew could tell by the manner in which they separated, as soon
+as they entered the room, and by their voices, which they made loud and
+cheerful; and, also, by the fact that they avoided looking at each
+other. They were striving patently to prove that there was nothing
+between them; and if Andrew had been on guard, now he became
+tinglingly so.
+
+They arranged their bunks; Larry la Roche took from his vest a pipe with
+a small bowl and a long stem and sat down cross-legged to smoke. Andrew
+suggested that Larry produce the contents of his saddlebag and share the
+spoils of war.
+
+He brought it out willingly enough and spilled it out on the improvised
+table, a glittering mass of gold trinkets, watches, jewels. He picked
+out of the mass a chain of diamonds and spread it out on his snaky
+fingers so that the light could play on it. Andrew knew nothing about
+gems, but he knew that the chain must be worth a great deal of money.
+
+"This," said Larry, "is my share. You gents can have the rest and split
+it up."
+
+"A nice set of sparklers," nodded Clune, "but there's plenty left to
+satisfy me."
+
+"What you think," declared Scottie, "ain't of any importance, Joe. It's
+what the chief thinks that counts. Is it square, Lanning?"
+
+Andrew flushed at the appeal and the ugly looks which La Roche and Clune
+cast toward him. He could have stifled Scottie for that appeal, and yet
+Scottie was smiling in the greatest apparent good nature and belief in
+their leader. His face was flushed, but his lips were bloodless. Alcohol
+always affected him in that manner.
+
+"I don't know the value of the stones," said Andrew.
+
+"Don't you?" murmured Scottie. "I forgot. Thought maybe you would. That
+was something that Allister did know." The new leader saw a flash of
+glances toward Scottie, but the latter continued to eye the captain with
+a steady and innocent look.
+
+"Scottie," decided Andrew instantly, "is my chief enemy."
+
+If he could detach one man to his side all would be well. Two against
+three would be a simple thing, as long as he was one of the two. But
+four against one--and such a four as these--was hopeless odds. There
+seemed little chance of getting Joe Clune. There remained only Jeff
+Rankin as his possibly ally, and already he had stepped on Jeff's toes
+sorely, by making the tired giant stand guard. He thought of all these
+things, of course, in a flash. And then in answer to his thoughts Jeff
+Rankin appeared. His heavy footfall crashed inside the door. He stopped,
+panting, and, in spite of his news, paused to blink at the flash
+of jewels.
+
+"It's comin'," said Jeff. "Boys, get your guns and scatter out of the
+cabin. Duck that light! Hal Dozier is comin' up the valley."
+
+There was not a single exclamation, but the lights went out as if by
+magic; there were a couple of light, hissing sounds, such as iron makes
+when it is whipped swiftly across leather.
+
+"How'd you know him by this light?" asked Larry la Roche, as they went
+out of the door. Outside they found everything brilliant with the white
+moonshine of the mountains.
+
+"Nobody but Hal Dozier rides twistin' that way in the saddle. I'd tell
+him in a thousand. It's old wounds that makes him ride like that. We got
+ten minutes. He's takin' the long way up the canyon. And they ain't
+anybody with him."
+
+"If he's come alone," said Andrew, "he's come for me and not for the
+rest of you."
+
+No one spoke. Then Larry la Roche: "He wants to make it man to man.
+That's clear. That's why he pulled up his hoss and waited for Allister
+to make the first move for his gun. It's a clean challenge to some
+one of us."
+
+Andrew saw his chance and used it mercilessly.
+
+"Which one of you is willing to take the challenge?" he asked. "Which
+one of you is willing to ride down the canyon and meet him alone? La
+Roche, I've heard you curse Dozier."
+
+But Larry la Roche answered: "What's this fool talk about takin' a
+challenge? I say, string out behind the hills and pot him with rifles."
+
+"One man, and we're five," said Jeff Rankin. "It ain't sportin', Larry.
+I hate to hear you say that. We'd be despised all over the mountains if
+we done it. He's makin' his play with a lone hand, and we've got to meet
+him the same way. Eh, chief?"
+
+It was sweet to Andrew to hear that appeal. And he saw them turn one by
+one toward him in the moonlight and wait. It was his first great
+tribute. He looked over those four wolfish figures and felt his
+heart swelling.
+
+"Wish me luck, boys," he said, and without another word he turned and
+went down the hillside.
+
+The others watched him with amazement. He felt it rather than saw it,
+and it kept a tingle in his blood. He felt, also, that they were
+spreading out to either side to get a clear view of the fight that was
+to follow, and it occurred to him that, even if Hal Dozier killed him,
+there would not be one chance in a thousand of Hal's getting away. Four
+deadly rifles would be covering him.
+
+It must be that a sort of madness had come on Dozier, advancing in this
+manner, unsupported by a posse. Or, perhaps, he had no idea that the
+outlaws could be so close. He expected a daylight encounter high up the
+mountains.
+
+But Andrew went swiftly down the ravine.
+
+Broken cliffs, granite boulders jumped up on either side of him, and
+the rocks were pale and glimmering under the moon. This one valley
+seemed to receive the light; the loftier mountains rolling away on each
+side were black as jet, with sharp, ragged outlines against the sky. It
+was a cold light, and the chill of it went through Andrew. He was
+afraid, afraid as he had been when Buck Heath faced him in Martindale,
+or when Bill Dozier ran him down, or when the famous Sandy cornered him.
+His fingers felt brittle, and his breath came and went in short gasps,
+drawn into the upper part of his lungs only.
+
+Behind him, like an electric force pushing him on, the outlaws watched
+his steps. They, also, were shuddering with fear, and he knew it.
+
+Dozier was coming, fresh from another kill.
+
+"Only one man I'd think twice about meeting," Allister had said in the
+old days, and he had been right. Yet there were thousands who had sworn
+that Allister was invincible--that he would never fall before a
+single man.
+
+He thought, too, of the lean face and the peculiar, set eye of Dozier.
+The man had no fear, he had no nerves; he was a machine, and death was
+his business.
+
+And was he, Andrew Lanning, unknown until the past few months, now going
+down to face destruction, as full of fear as a girl trembling at the
+dark? What was it that drew them together, so unfairly matched?
+
+He could still see only the white haze of the moonshine before him, but
+now there was the clicking of hoofs on the rock. Dozier was coming.
+Andrew walked squarely out into the middle of the ravine and waited. He
+had set his teeth. The nerves on the bottom of his feet were twitching.
+Something freezing cold was beginning at the tips of his fingers. How
+long would it take Dozier to come?
+
+An interminable time. The hoofbeats actually seemed to fade out and draw
+away at one time. Then they began again very near him, and now they
+stopped. Had Dozier seen him around the elbow curve? That heartbreaking
+instant passed, and the clicking began again. Then the rider came slowly
+in view. First there was the nodding head of the cow pony, then the foot
+in the stirrup, then Hal Dozier riding a little twisted in the saddle--a
+famous characteristic of his.
+
+He came on closer and closer. He began to seem huge on the horse. Was he
+blind not to see the figure that waited for him?
+
+A voice that was not his, that he did not recognize, leaped out from
+between his teeth and tore his throat: "Dozier!"
+
+The cow pony halted with a start; the rider jerked straight in his
+saddle; the echo of the call barked back from some angling cliff face
+down the ravine. All that before Dozier made his move. He had dropped
+the reins, and Andrew, with a mad intention of proving that he himself
+did not make the first move toward his weapon, had folded his arms.
+
+He did not move through the freezing instant that followed. Not until
+there was a convulsive jerk of Dozier's elbow did he stir his folded
+arms. Then his right arm loosened, and the hand flashed down to
+his holster.
+
+Was Dozier moving with clogged slowness, or was it that he had ceased to
+be a body, that he was all brain and hair-trigger nerves making every
+thousandth part of a second seem a unit of time? It seemed to Andrew
+that the marshal's hand dragged through its work; to those who watched
+from the sides of the ravine, there was a flash of fire from his gun
+before they saw even the flash of the steel out of the holster. The gun
+spat in the hand of Dozier, and something jerked at the shirt of Andrew
+beside his neck. He himself had fired only once, and he knew that the
+shot had been too high and to the right of his central target; yet he
+did not fire again. Something strange was happening to Hal Dozier. His
+head had nodded forward as though in mockery of the bullet; his
+extended right hand fell slowly, slowly; his whole body began to sway
+and lean toward the right. Not until that moment did Andrew know that he
+had shot the marshal through the body.
+
+He raced to the side of the cattle pony, and, as the horse veered away,
+Hal Dozier dropped limply into his arms. He lay with his limbs sprawling
+at odd angles beside him. His muscles seemed paralyzed, but his eyes
+were bright and wide, and his face perfectly composed.
+
+"There's luck for you," said Hal Dozier calmly. "I pulled it two inches
+to the right, or I would have broken your neck with the slug--anyway, I
+spoiled your shirt."
+
+The cold was gone from Andrew, and he felt his heart thundering and
+shaking his body. He was repeating like a frightened child, "For God's
+sake, Hal, don't die--don't die."
+
+The paralyzed body did not move, but the calm voice answered him: "You
+fool! Finish me before your gang comes and does it for you!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 38
+
+
+There was a rush of footsteps behind and around him, a jangle of voices,
+and there were the four huddled over Hal Dozier. Andrew had risen and
+stepped back, silently thanking God that it was not a death. He heard
+the voices of the four like voices in a dream.
+
+"A clean one." "A nice bit of work." "Dozier, are you thinkin' of
+Allister, curse you?" "D'you remember Hugh Wiley now?" "D'you maybe
+recollect my pal, Bud Swain? Think about 'em, Dozier, while you're
+dyin'!" The calm eyes traveled without hurry from face to face. And
+curiosity came to Andrew, a cool, deadly curiosity. He stepped among
+the gang.
+
+"He's not fatally hurt," he said. "What d'you intend to do with him?"
+
+"You're all wrong, chief," said Larry la Roche, and he grinned at
+Andrew. His submission now was perfect and complete. There was even a
+sort of worship in the bright eyes that looked at the new leader. "I
+hate to say it, but right as you mos' gener'ly are, you're wrong this
+time. He's done. He don't need no more lookin' to. Leave him be for an
+hour and he'll be finished. Also, that'll give him a chance to think. He
+needs a chance. Old Curley had a chance to think--took him four hours to
+kick out after Dozier plugged him. I heard what he had to say, and it
+wasn't pretty. I think maybe it'd be sort of interestin' to hear what
+Dozier has to say. Long about the time he gets thirsty. Eh, boys?"
+
+There was a snarl from the other three as they looked down at the
+wounded man, who did not speak a word. And Andrew knew that he was
+indeed alone with that crew, for the man whom he had just shot down was
+nearer to him than the members of Allister's gang.
+
+He spoke suddenly: "Jeff, take his head; Clune, take his feet. Carry him
+up to the cabin."
+
+They only stared at him.
+
+"Look here, captain," said Scottie in a soft voice, just a trifle
+thickened by whiskey, "are you thinking of taking him up there and tying
+him up so that he'll live through this?"
+
+And again the other three snarled softly.
+
+"You murdering hounds!" said Andrew.
+
+That was all. They looked at each other; they looked at the new leader.
+And the sight of his white face and his nervous right hand was too much
+for them. They took up the marshal and carried him to the cabin, his
+pony following like a dog behind. They brought him, without asking for
+directions, straight into the little rear room--Andrew's room. It was a
+sufficiently intelligible way of saying that this was his work and none
+of theirs. And not a hand lifted to aid him while he went to work with
+the bandaging. He knew little about such work, but the marshal himself,
+in a rather faint, but perfectly steady voice, gave directions. And in
+the painful cleaning of the wound he did not murmur once. Neither did he
+express the slightest gratitude. He kept following Andrew about the room
+with coldly curious eyes.
+
+In the next room the voices of the four were a steady, rumbling murmur.
+Now and then the glance of the marshal wandered to the door. When the
+bandaging was completed, he asked, "Do you know you've started a job you
+can't finish?"
+
+"Ah?" murmured Andrew.
+
+"Those four," said the marshal, "won't let you."
+
+Andrew smiled.
+
+"Are you easier now?"
+
+"Don't bother about me. I'll tell you what--I wish you'd get me a drink
+of water."
+
+"I'll send one of the boys."
+
+"No, get it yourself. I want to say something to them while you're
+gone."
+
+Andrew had risen up from his knees. He now studied the face of the
+marshal steadily.
+
+"You want 'em to come in here and drill you, eh?" he said. "Why?"
+
+The other nodded.
+
+"I've given up hope once; I've gone through the hardest part of dying;
+let them finish the job now."
+
+"Tomorrow you'll feel differently."
+
+"Will I?" asked the marshal. All at once his eyes went yellow with hate.
+"I go back to the desert--I go to Martindale--people I pass on the
+street whisper as I go by. They'll tell over and over how I went down.
+And a kid did it--a raw kid!"
+
+He closed his eyes in silent agony. Then he looked up more keenly than
+before. "How'll they know that it was luck--that my gun stuck in the
+holster--and that you jumped me on the draw?"
+
+"You lie," said Andrew calmly. "Your gun came out clean as a whistle,
+and I waited for you, Dozier. You know I did."
+
+The pain in the marshal's face became a ghastly thing to see. At last he
+could speak.
+
+"A sneak always lies well," he replied, as he sneered at Lanning.
+
+He went on, while Andrew sat shivering with passion. "And any fool can
+get in a lucky shot now and then. But, when I'm out of this, I'll hunt
+you down again and I'll plant you full of lead, my son! You can lay
+to that!"
+
+The hard breathing of Andrew gradually subsided.
+
+"It won't work, Dozier," he said quietly. "You can't make me mad enough
+to shoot a man who's down. You can't make me murder you."
+
+The marshal closed his eyes again, while his breathing was beginning to
+grow fainter, and there was an unpleasant rattle in the hollow of his
+throat. Andrew went into the next room.
+
+"Scottie," he said, "will you let me have your flask?"
+
+Scottie smiled at him.
+
+"Not for what you'd use it for, Lanning," he said.
+
+Andrew picked up a cup and shoved it across the table.
+
+"Pour a little whisky in that, please," he said.
+
+Scottie looked up and studied him. Then he tipped his flask and poured a
+thin stream into the cup until it was half full. Andrew went back toward
+the door, the cup in his left hand. He backed up, keeping his face
+steadily toward the four, and kicked open the door behind him.
+
+War, he knew, had been declared. Then he raised the marshal's head and
+gave him a sip of the fiery stuff. It cleared the face of the
+wounded man.
+
+Then Andrew rolled down his blankets before the door, braced a small
+stick against it, so that the sound would be sure to waken him if anyone
+tried to enter, and laid down for the night. He was almost asleep when
+the marshal said: "Are you really going to stick it out, Andy?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"In spite of what I've said?"
+
+"I suppose you meant it all? You'd hunt me down and kill me like a dog
+after you get back on your feet?"
+
+"Like a dog."
+
+"If you think it over and see things clearly," replied Andrew, "you'll
+see that what I've done I've done for my own sake, and not for yours."
+
+"How do you make that out--with four men in the next room ready to stick
+a knife in your back--if I know anything about 'em?"
+
+"I'll tell you: I owe nothing to you, but a man owes a lot to himself,
+and I'm going to pay myself in full."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 39
+
+
+He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but, though he came to the verge
+of oblivion, the voices from the other room finally waked him. They had
+been changing subtly during the past hours and now they rose, and there
+was a ring to them that troubled Andrew.
+
+He could make out their talk part of the time; and then again they
+lowered their voices to rumbling growls. At such times he knew that
+they were speaking of him, and the hum of the undertone was more ominous
+than open threats. When they talked aloud there was a confused clamor;
+when they were more hushed there was always the oily murmur of Scottie's
+voice, taking the lead and directing the current of the talk.
+
+The liquor was going the rounds fast, now. Before they left for the
+Murchison Pass they had laid in a comfortable supply, but apparently
+Allister had cached a quantity of the stuff at the Twin Eagles shack. Of
+one thing Andrew was certain, that four such practiced whisky drinkers
+would never let their party degenerate into a drunken rout; and another
+thing was even more sure--that Scottie Macdougal would keep his head
+better than the best of the others. But what the alcohol would do would
+be to cut the leash of constraint and dig up every strong passion among
+them. For instance, Jeff Rankin was by far the most equable of the lot,
+but, given a little whisky, Jeff became a conscienceless devil.
+
+He knew his own weakness, and Andrew, crawling to the door and putting
+his ear to the crack under it, found that the sounds of the voices
+became instantly clearer; the others were plying Jeff with the liquor,
+and Jeff, knowing that he had had enough, was persistently refusing, but
+with less and less energy.
+
+There must be a very definite reason for this urging of Rankin toward
+the whisky, and Andrew was not hard pressed to find out that reason. The
+big, rather good-natured giant was leaning toward the side of the new
+leader, just as steadily as the others were leaning away from him.
+Whisky alone would stop his scruples. Larry la Roche, his voice a
+guarded, hissing whisper, was speaking to Jeff as Andrew began listening
+from his new position.
+
+"What I ask you," said La Roche, "is this: Have we had any luck since
+the kid joined us?" "We've got a pile of the coin," said Jeff
+obstinately.
+
+"D'you stack a little coin against the loss of Allister?" asked Larry la
+Roche.
+
+"Easy," cautioned Scottie. "Not so loud, Larry."
+
+"He's asleep," said Larry la Roche. "I heard him lie down after he'd put
+something agin' the door. No fear of him."
+
+"Don't be so sure. He might make a noise lying down and make not a sound
+getting up. And, even when he's asleep, he's got one eye open like
+a wolf."
+
+"Well," repeated Larry insistently, and now his voice was so faint that
+Andrew had to guess at half the syllables, "answer my question, Jeff:
+Have we had good luck or bad luck, takin' it all in all, since he
+joined us?"
+
+"How do I know it's his fault?" asked Jeff. "We all knew it would be a
+close pinch if Allister ever jumped Hal Dozier. We thought Allister was
+a little bit faster than Dozier. Everybody else said that Dozier was the
+best man that ever pulled a gun out of leather. It wasn't luck that beat
+Allister--it was a better man."
+
+There was a thud as his fist hit the rickety, squeaking table in the
+center of the room.
+
+"I say, let's play fair and square. How do I know that the kid won't
+make a good leader?"
+
+Scottie broke in smoothly: "Makes me grin when you say that, Jeff. Tell
+you what the trouble is with you, old man: you're too modest. A fellow
+that's done what you've done, following a kid that ain't twenty-five!"
+
+There was a bearlike grunt from Jeff. He was not altogether displeased
+by this gracious tribute. But he answered: "You're too slippery with
+your tongue, Scottie. I never know when you mean what you say!"
+
+It must have been a bitter pill for Scottie to swallow, but he was not
+particularly formidable with his weapons, compared with straight-eyed
+Jeff Rankin, and he answered: "Maybe there's some I jolly along a bit,
+but, when I talk to old Jeff Rankin, I talk straight. Look at me now,
+Jeff. Do I look as if I was joking with you?"
+
+"I ain't any hand at readin' minds," grumbled Jeff.
+
+He added suddenly: "I say it was the finest thing I ever see, the way
+young Lanning stood out there in the valley. Did you watch? Did you see
+him let Dozier get the jump on his gun? Pretty, pretty, pretty! And then
+his own gat was out like a flash--one wink, and there was Hal Dozier
+drilled clean! I tell you, boys, you got this young Lanning wrong. I
+sort of cotton to the kid. I always did. I liked him the first time I
+ever laid eyes on him. So did you all, except Larry, yonder. And it was
+Larry that turned you agin' him after he come and joined us. Who asked
+him to join us? We did!"
+
+"Who asked him to be captain?" said Scottie.
+
+It seemed to stagger Jeff Rankin.
+
+"Allister used him for a sort of second man; seemed like he meant him to
+lead us in case anything happened to him."
+
+"While Allister was living," said Scottie, "you know I would of followed
+him anywhere. Wasn't I his advance agent? Didn't I do his planning with
+him? But now Allister's dead--worse luck--but dead he is."
+
+He paused here cunningly, and, no doubt, during that pause each of the
+outlaws conjured up a picture of the scar-faced man with the bright,
+steady eyes, who had led them so long and quelled them so often and held
+them together through thick and thin.
+
+"Allister's dead," repeated Scottie, "and what he did while he was alive
+don't hold us now. We chose him for captain out of our own free will.
+Now that he's dead we have the right to elect another captain. What's
+Lanning done that he has a right to fill Allister's place with us? What
+job did he have at the holdup? When we stuck up the train didn't he have
+the easiest job? Did he give one good piece of advice while we were
+plannin' the job? Did he show any ability to lead us, then?"
+
+The answer came unhesitatingly from Rankin: "It wasn't his place to lead
+while Allister was with us. And I'll tell you what he done after
+Allister died. When I seen Dozier comin', who was it that stepped out to
+meet him? Was it you, Scottie? No, it wasn't. It wasn't you, La Roche,
+neither, nor you, Clune, and it wasn't me. Made me sick inside, the
+thought of facin' Dozier. Why? Because I knew he'd never been beat.
+Because I knew he was a better man than Allister, and that Allister had
+been a better man than me. And it ain't no braggin' to say I'm a handier
+gent with my guns than any of you. Well, I was sick, and you all were
+sick. I seen your faces. But who steps out and takes the lead? It was
+the kid you grin at, Scottie; it was Andy Lanning, and I say it was a
+fine thing to do!"
+
+It was undoubtedly a facer; but Scottie came back in his usual calm
+manner.
+
+"I know it was Lanning, and it was a fine thing. I don't deny, either,
+that he's a fine gent in lots of ways--and in his place--but is his
+place at the head of the gang? Are we going to be bullied into having
+him there?"
+
+"Then let him follow, and somebody else lead."
+
+"You make me laugh, Jeff. He's not the sort that will follow anybody."
+
+Plainly Scottie was working on Jeff from a distance. He would bring him
+slowly around to the place where he would agree to the attack on Andrew
+for the sake of getting at the wounded marshal.
+
+"Have another drink, Jeff, and then let's get back to the main point,
+and that has nothin' to do with Andy. It is: Is Hal Dozier going to
+live or die?"
+
+The time had come, Andrew saw, to make his final play. A little more of
+this talk and the big, good-hearted, strong-handed Rankin would be
+completely on the side of the others. And that meant the impossible odds
+of four to one. Andrew knew it. He would attack any two of them without
+fear. But three became a desperate, a grim battle; and four to one made
+the thing suicide.
+
+He slipped silently to his feet from beside the door and picked up the
+canvas bag which represented his share of the robbery. Then he knocked
+at the door.
+
+"Boys," he called, "there's been some hard thoughts between the lot of
+you and me. It looks like we're on opposite sides of a fence. I want to
+come in and talk to you."
+
+Instantly Scottie answered: "Why, come on in, captain; not such hard
+words as you think--not on my side, anyways!"
+
+It was a cunning enough lure, no doubt, and Andrew had his hand on the
+latch of the door before a second thought reached him. If he exposed
+himself, would not the three of them pull their guns? They would be able
+to account for it to Jeff Rankin later on.
+
+"I'll come in," said Andrew, "when I hear you give me surety that I'll
+be safe. I don't trust you, Scottie."
+
+"Thanks for that. What surety do you want?"
+
+"I want the word of Jeff Rankin that he'll see me through till I've made
+my talk to you and my proposition."
+
+It was an excellent counterthrust, but Larry la Roche saw through the
+attempt to win Jeff immediately.
+
+"You skunk!" he said. "If you don't trust us we don't trust you. Stay
+where you be. We don't want to hear your talk!"
+
+"Jeff, what do you say?" continued Andrew calmly.
+
+There was a clamor of three voices and then the louder voice of Jeff,
+like a lion shaking itself clear of wolves: "Andy, come in, and I'll see
+you get a square deal--if you'll trust me!" Instantly Andrew threw open
+the door and stepped in, his revolver in one hand, the heavy sack over
+his other arm, a dragging weight and also a protection.
+
+"I'll trust you, Jeff," he said. "Trust you? Why, man, with you at my
+back I'd laugh at twenty fellows like these. They simply don't count."
+
+It was another well-placed shot, and he saw Rankin flush heavily with
+pleasure. Scottie tilted his box back against the wall and delivered his
+counterstroke: "He said the same thing to me earlier on in the evening,"
+he remarked casually. "But I told him where to go. I told him that I was
+with the bunch first and last and all the time. That's why he hates me!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 40
+
+
+While he searched desperately for an answer, Andrew found none. Then he
+saw the stupid, big eyes of Jeff wander from his face to the face of
+Scottie, and he knew that his previous advantage had been completely
+neutralized.
+
+"Boys," he said, and he surveyed the restless, savage figures of Clune
+and La Roche, "I've come for a little plain talk. There's no more
+question about me leadin' the gang. None at all. I wouldn't lead you, La
+Roche, nor you, Clune, nor you, Scottie. There's only one man here
+that's clean--and he's Jeff Rankin."
+
+He waited for that point to sink home; as Scottie opened his lips to
+strike back, he went ahead deliberately. By retaining his own calm he
+saw that he kept a great advantage. Rankin began fumbling at his cup;
+Scottie instantly filled it half full with whisky. "Don't drink that,"
+said Andrew sharply. "Don't drink it, Jeff. Scottie's doin' that on
+purpose to get you sap headed!"
+
+"Do what he says," said Scottie calmly. "Throw the dirty stuff away,
+Jeff. Do what your daddy tells you. You ain't old enough to know your
+own mind, are you?"
+
+Big Jeff flushed, cast a glance of defiance that included both Andrew
+and Scottie, and tossed off the whisky. It was a blow over the heart for
+Andrew; he had to finish his talking now, before Jeff Rankin was turned
+mad by the whisky. And if he worked it well, Jeff would be on his side.
+The madness would fight for Andrew.
+
+He said: "There's no more question about me being a leader for you.
+Personally, I'd like to have Jeff--not to follow me, but to be pals
+with me."
+
+Jeff cleared his throat and looked about with foolish importance. Not an
+eye wavered to meet his glance; every look was fixed with a hungry hate
+upon Andrew.
+
+"There's only one thing up between the lot of us: Do I keep Hal Dozier,
+or do you get him--to murder him? Do you fellows ride on your way free
+and easy, to do what you please, or do you tackle me in that room, eat
+my lead, and then, if you finish me, get a chance to kill a man that's
+nearly dead now? How does it look to you, boys? Think it over.
+Think sharp!"
+
+He knew while he spoke that there was one exquisitely simple way to end
+both his life and the life of Dozier--let them touch a match to the
+building and shoot him while he ran from the flames. But he could only
+pray that they would not see it.
+
+"And besides, I'll do more. You think you have a claim on Dozier. I'll
+buy him from you. Here's half his weight in gold. Will you take the
+money and clear out? Or are you going to make the play at me? If you do,
+you'll buy whatever you get at a high price!" "You forget--" put in
+Scottie, but Andrew interrupted.
+
+"I don't want to hear from you, Scottie. I know you're a snake. I want
+to hear from Jeff Rankin. Speak up, Jeff. Everything's in your hands,
+and I trust you!"
+
+The giant rose from his chair. His face was white with the effect of the
+whisky, and one spot of color burned in each cheek. He looked
+gloweringly upon his companions.
+
+"Andy," he said, "I--"
+
+"Wait a minute," said Scottie swiftly, seeing that the scales were
+balancing toward a defeat.
+
+"Let him talk. You don't have to tell him what to say," said Andrew.
+
+"I've got a right to put our side up to him--for the sake of the things
+we've been through together. Jeff, have I?"
+
+Jeff Rankin cleared his throat importantly. Scottie faced him; the
+others kept their unchanging eyes rivetted upon Andrew, ready for the
+gun play at the first flicker of an eyelid. The first sign of unwariness
+would begin and end the battle.
+
+"Don't forget this," went on Scottie, having Jeff's attention. "Andy is
+workin' to keep Dozier alive. Why? Dozier's the law, isn't he? Then Andy
+wants to make up with the law. He wants to sneak out. He wants to turn
+state's evidence!"
+
+The deadly phrase shocked Jeff Rankin a pace back toward soberness.
+
+"I never thought," he began.
+
+"You're too straight to think of it. Take another look at Lanning. Is he
+one of us? Has he ever been one of us? No! Look again! Dozier has hunted
+Lanning all over the mountain desert. Now he wants to save Dozier. Wants
+to risk his life for him. Wants to buy him from us! Why? Because he's
+turned crooked. He's turned soft. He wants to get under the wing of
+the law."
+
+But Jeff Rankin swept all argument away with a movement of his big paws.
+"Too much talk," he said. "I want to think."
+
+His stupid, animal eyes went laboriously around the room. "I wish
+Allister was here," he said. "He always knew."
+
+"For my part," said Scottie, "I can't be bought. Not me!" He suddenly
+leaned to the big man, and, before Andrew could speak, he had said:
+"Jeff, you know why I want to get Dozier. Because he ran down my
+brother. And are you going to let him go clear, Jeff? Are you going to
+have Allister haunt you?"
+
+It was the decisive stroke. The big head of Jeff twitched back, he
+opened his lips to speak--and in that moment, knowing that the battle
+was over and lost to him, Andrew, who had moved back, made one leap and
+was through the door and into the little shed again. The gun had gleamed
+in the hand of Larry la Roche as he sprang, but Andrew had been too
+quick for the outlaw to plant his shot.
+
+He heard Jeff Rankin still speaking: "I dunno, quite. But I see you're
+right, Scottie. They ain't any reason for Lanning to be so chummy with
+Dozier. And so they must be somethin' crooked about it. Boys, I'm with
+you to the limit! Go as far as you like. I'm behind you!"
+
+No room for argument now; and the blind, animal hate which Scottie and
+La Roche and Clune felt for Dozier was sure to drive them to
+extremities. Andrew sat in the dark, hurriedly going over his rifle and
+his revolver. Once he was about to throw open the door and try the
+effect of a surprise attack. He might plant two shots before there was a
+return; he let the idea slip away from him. There would remain two more,
+and one of them was certain to kill him.
+
+Moving across the room he heard a whisper from the floor: "I've heard
+them, Lanning. Don't be a fool. Give me up to 'em!"
+
+He made no answer. In the other room the voices were no longer
+restrained; Jeff Rankin's in particular boomed and rang and filled the
+shed. Once bent on action he was all for the attack; whisky had removed
+the last human scruple. And Andrew heard them openly cast their ballots
+for a new leader; heard Scottie acclaimed; heard the Scotchman say:
+"Boys, I'm going to show you a way to clean up on Dozier and Lanning,
+without any man risking a single shot from him in return."
+
+They clamored for the suggestion, but he told them that he was first
+going out into the open to think it over. In the meantime they had
+nothing to fear. Sit fast and have another drink around. He had to be
+alone to figure it out.
+
+It was very plain. The wily rascal would let them go one step farther
+toward an insanity of drink, and then, his own brain cold and collected,
+he would come back to turn the shack into a shambles. He had said he
+could do it without risk to them. There was only one possible meaning;
+he intended to use fire.
+
+Andrew sat with the butt of his rifle ground into his forehead. It was
+still easy to escape; the insistent whisper from the floor was pointing
+out the way: "Beat it out that back window, lad. Slope, Andy; they's no
+use. You can't help me. They mean fire; they'll pot you like a pig, from
+the dark. Give me up!"
+
+It was the advice to use the window that decided Andrew. It was a wild
+chance indeed, this leaving of Dozier helpless on the floor; but he
+risked it. He whispered to the marshal that he would return, and slipped
+through the window. He was not halfway around the house before he heard
+a voice that chilled him with horror. It was the marshal calling to them
+that Andrew was gone and inviting them in to finish him. But they
+suspected, naturally enough, that the invitation was a trap, and they
+contented themselves with abusing him for thinking them such fools.
+
+Andrew went on; fifty feet from the house and just aside from the shaft
+of light that fell from the open door, stood Scottie. His head was
+bare, his face was turned up to catch the wind, and no doubt he was
+dreaming of the future which lay before him as the new captain of
+Allister's band. The whisper of Andrew behind him cut his dream short.
+He whirled to receive the muzzle of a revolver in his stomach. His hands
+went up, and he stood gasping faintly in the moonlight.
+
+"I've got you, Scottie," he said, "and so help me heaven, you're the
+first man that I've wanted to kill."
+
+It would have taken a man of supernerve to outface that situation. And
+the nerve of Scottie cracked.
+
+He began to whisper with a horrible break and sob in his breath:
+"Andy--Andy, gimme a chance. I'm not fit to go--this way. Andy,
+remember--"
+
+"I'm going to give you a chance. You're pretty low, Scottie; I check
+what you've done to the way you hate Dozier, and I won't hold a grudge.
+And I'll tell you the chance you've got. You see these rocks, here? I'm
+goin' to lie down behind them. I'm going to keep you covered with my
+rifle. Scottie, did you ever see me shoot with a rifle?"
+
+Scottie shuddered--a very sufficient reply.
+
+"I'm going to keep you covered. Then you'll turn around and walk
+straight back to the shack. You'll stand there--always in clean sight
+of the doorway--and you'll persuade that crowd of drunks to leave the
+house and ride away with you. Understand, when you get inside the house,
+there'll be a big temptation to jump to one side and get behind the
+wall--just one twitch of your muscles, and you'd be safe. But, fast as
+you could move, Scottie, powder drives lead a lot faster. And I'll have
+you centered every minute. You'll make a pretty little target against
+the light, besides. You understand?
+
+"The moment you even start to move fast, I pull the trigger. Remember
+it, Scottie. For as sure as there's a hell, I'll send you into it head
+first, if you don't." "So help me heaven," said Scottie, "I'll do what
+I can. I think I can talk 'em into it. But if I don't?"
+
+"If you don't, you're dead. That's short, and that's sweet. Keep it in
+your head. Go back and tell them it would take too great a risk to try
+to fix me.
+
+"And there's another thing to remember. If you should be able to get
+behind the wall without being shot, you're not safe. Not by a long way,
+Scottie. I'd still be alive. And, though you'd have Hal Dozier there to
+cut up as you pleased, I'd be here outside the cabin watching it--with
+my rifle. And I'd tag some of you when you tried to get out. And if I
+didn't get you all I'd start on your trail. Scottie, you fellows, even
+when you had Allister to lead you, couldn't get off scot-free from
+Dozier. Scottie, I give you my solemn word of honor, you'll find me a
+harder man to get free from than Hal Dozier.
+
+"Here's the last thing: If you do what I tell you--if you get that crowd
+of drunken brutes out of the cabin and away without harming Dozier, I'll
+wipe out the score between us. No matter what you told the rest of them,
+you know I've never broken a promise, and that I never shall."
+
+He stopped and, stepping back to the rocks, sank slowly down behind
+them. Only the muzzle of his rifle showed, no more than the glint of a
+tiny bit of quartz; his left hand was raised, and, at its gesture,
+Scottie turned and walked slowly toward the cabin doorway. Once,
+stumbling over something, he reeled almost out of the shaft of light,
+but stopped on the edge of safety with a terrible trembling. There he
+stood for a moment, and Andrew knew that he was gathering his nerve. He
+went on; he stood in the doorway, leaning with one arm against it.
+
+What followed Andrew could not hear, except an occasional roar from
+Rankin. Once Larry la Roche came and stood before the new leader,
+gesturing frantically, and the ring of his voice came clearly to Andrew.
+The Scotchman negligently stood to one side; the way between Andrew and
+Larry was cleared, and Andrew could not help smiling at the fiendish
+malevolence of Scottie. But he was apparently able to convince even
+Larry la Roche by means of words. At length there was a bustling in the
+cabin, a loud confusion, and finally the whole troop went out. Somebody
+brought Scottie his saddle; Jeff Rankin came out reeling.
+
+But Scottie stirred last from the doorway; there he stood in the shaft
+of light until some one, cursing, brought him his horse. He mounted it
+in full view. Then the cavalcade started down the ravine.
+
+Certainly it was not an auspicious beginning for Scottie Macdougal.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 41
+
+
+The first ten days of the following time were the hardest; it was during
+that period that Scottie and the rest were most apt to return and make a
+backstroke at Dozier and Andrew. For Andrew knew well enough that this
+was the argument--the promise of a surprise attack--with which Scottie
+had lured his men away from the shack.
+
+During that ten days, and later, he adopted a systematic plan of work.
+During the nights he paid two visits to the sick man. On one occasion he
+dressed the wound; on the next he did the cooking and put food and water
+beside the marshal, to last him through the day.
+
+After that he went out and took up his post. As a rule he waited on the
+top of the hill in the clump of pines. From this position he commanded
+with his rifle the sweep of hillside all around the cabin. The greatest
+time of danger for Dozier was when Andrew had to scout through the
+adjacent hills for food--their supply of meat ran out on the
+fourth day.
+
+But the ten days passed; and after that, in spite of the poor care he
+had received--or perhaps aided by the absolute quiet--the marshal's iron
+constitution asserted itself more and more strongly. He began to mend
+rapidly. Eventually he could sit up, and, when that time came, the great
+period of anxiety was over. For Dozier could sit with his rifle across
+his knees, or, leaning against the chair which Andrew had improvised,
+command a fairly good outlook.
+
+Only once--it was at the close of the fourth week--did Andrew find
+suspicious signs in the vicinity of the cabin--the telltale trampling
+on a place where four horses had milled in an impatient circle. But no
+doubt the gang had thought caution to be the better part of hate. They
+remembered the rifle of Andrew and had gone on without making a sign.
+Afterward Andrew learned why they had not returned sooner. Three hours
+after they left the shack a posse had picked them up in the moonlight,
+and there had followed a forty-mile chase.
+
+But all through the time until the marshal could actually stand and
+walk, and finally sit his saddle with little danger of injuring the
+wound, Andrew, knowing nothing of what took place outside, was
+ceaselessly on the watch. Literally, during all that period, he never
+closed his eyes for more than a few minutes of solid sleep. And, before
+the danger line had been crossed, he was worn to a shadow. When he
+turned his head the cords leaped out on his neck. His mouth had that
+look, at once savage and nervous, which goes always with the hunted man.
+
+And it was not until he was himself convinced that Dozier could take
+care of himself that he wrapped himself in his blankets and fell into a
+twenty-four-hour sleep. He awoke finally with a start, out of a dream in
+which he had found himself, in imagination, wakened by Scottie stooping
+over him. He had reached for his revolver at his side, in the dream,
+and had found nothing. Now, waking, his hand was working nervously
+across the floor of the shack. That part of the dream was come true,
+but, instead of Scottie leaning over him, it was the marshal, who sat in
+his chair with his rifle across his knees. Andrew sat up. His weapons
+had been indeed removed, and the marshal was looking at him with
+beady eyes.
+
+"Have you seen 'em?" asked Andrew. "Have the boys shown themselves?"
+
+He started to get up, but the marshal's crisp voice cut in on him. "Sit
+down there."
+
+There had been--was it possible to believe it?--a motion of the gun in
+the hands of the marshal to point this last remark.
+
+"Partner," said Andrew, stunned, "what are you drivin' at?"
+
+"I've been thinking," said Hal Dozier. "You sit tight till I tell you
+what about."
+
+"It's just driftin' into my head, sort of misty," murmured Andrew, "that
+you've been thinkin' about double-crossin' me."
+
+"Suppose," said the marshal, "I was to ride into Martindale with you in
+front of me. That'd make a pretty good picture, Andy. Allister dead, and
+you taken alive. Not to speak of ten thousand I dollars as a background.
+That would sort of round off my work. I could retire and live happy ever
+after, eh?"
+
+Andrew peered into the grim face of the older man; there was not a
+flicker of a smile in it.
+
+"Go on," he said, "but think twice, Hal. If I was you, I'd think ten
+times!"
+
+The marshal met those terrible, blazing eyes without a quiver of his
+own.
+
+"I began with thinking about that picture," he said. "Later on I had
+some other thoughts--about you. Andy, d'you see that you don't fit
+around here? You're neither a man-killer nor a law-abidin' citizen. You
+wouldn't fit in Martindale any more, and you certainly won't fit with
+any gang of crooks that ever wore guns. Look at the way you split with
+Allister's outfit! Same thing would happen again. So, as far as I can
+see, it doesn't make much difference whether I trot you into town and
+collect the ten thousand, or whether some of the crooks who hate you run
+you down--or some posse corners you one of these days and does its job.
+How do you see it?"
+
+Andrew said nothing, but his face spoke for him.
+
+"How d'you see the future yourself?" said the marshal. His voice changed
+suddenly: "Talk to me, Andy."
+
+Andrew looked carefully at him; then he spoke.
+
+"I'll tell you short and quick, Hal. I want action. That's all. I want
+something to keep my mind and my hands busy. Doing nothing is the thing
+I'm afraid of."
+
+"I gather you're not very happy, Andy?"
+
+Lanning smiled, and it was not a pleasant smile to see.
+
+"I'm empty, Hal," he answered. "Does that answer you? The crooks are
+against me, the law is against me. Well, they'll work together to keep
+me busy. I don't want any man's help. I'm a bad man, Hal. I know it. I
+don't deny it. I don't ask any quarter."
+
+It was rather a desperate speech--rather a boyish one. At any rate the
+marshal smiled, and a curious flush came in Andrew's face.
+
+"Will you let me tell you a story, Andrew? It's a story about yourself."
+
+He went on: "You were a kid in Martindale. Husky, good-natured, a little
+sleepy, with touchy nerves, not very confident in yourself. I've known
+other kids like you, but none just the same type.
+
+"You weren't waked up. You see? The pinch was bound to come in a town
+where every man wore his gun. You were bound to face a show-down. There
+were equal chances. Either you'd back down or else you'd give the man a
+beating. If the first thing happened, you'd have been a coward the rest
+of your life. But the other thing was what happened, and it gave you a
+touch of the iron that a man needs in his blood. Iron dust, Andy,
+iron dust!
+
+"You had bad luck, you think. You thought you'd killed a man; it made
+you think you were a born murderer. You began to look back to the old
+stories about the Lannings--a wild crew of men. You thought that blood
+was what was a-showing in you.
+
+"Partly you were right, partly you were wrong. There was a new strength
+in you. You thought it was the strength of a desperado. Do you know what
+the change was? It was the change from boyhood to manhood. That was
+all--a sort of chemical change, Andy.
+
+"See what happened: You had your first fight and you saw your first
+girl, all about the same time. But here's what puzzles me: according to
+the way I figure it, you must have seen the girl first. But it seems
+that you didn't. Will you tell me?"
+
+"We won't talk about the girl," said Andrew in a heavy voice.
+
+"Tut, tut! Won't we? Boy, we're going to do more talking about her than
+about anything else. Well, anyway, you saw the girl, fell in love with
+her, went away. Met up with a posse which my brother happened to lead.
+Killed your man. Went on. Rode like the wind. Went through about a
+hundred adventures in as many days. And little by little you were fixing
+in your ways. You were changing from boyhood into manhood, and you were
+changing without any authority over you. Most youngsters have their
+fathers over them when that change comes. All of 'em have the law. But
+you didn't have either. And the result was that you changed from a boy
+into a man, and a free man. You hear me? You found that you could do
+what you wanted to do; nothing could hold you back except one
+thing--the girl!"
+
+Andrew caught his breath, but the marshal would not let him speak.
+
+"I've seen other free men--most people called them desperadoes. What's a
+desperado in the real sense? A man who won't submit to the law. That's
+all he is. But, because he won't submit, he usually runs foul of other
+men. He kills one. Then he kills another. Finally he gets the blood
+lust. Well, Andy, that's what you never got. You killed one man--he
+brought it on himself. But look back over the rest of your career. Most
+people think you've killed twenty. That's because they've heard a pack
+of lies. You're a desperado--a free man--but you're not a man-killer.
+And there's the whole point.
+
+"And this was what turned you loose as a criminal--you thought the girl
+had cut loose from you. Otherwise to this day you'd have been trying to
+get away across the mountains and be a good, quiet member of society.
+But you thought the girl had cut loose from you, and it hurt you.
+Man-killer? Bah! You're simply lovesick, my boy!"
+
+"Talk slow," whispered Andrew. "My--my head's whirling."
+
+"It'll whirl more, pretty soon. Andy, do you know that the girl never
+married Charles Merchant?"
+
+There was a wild yell; Andrew was stopped in mid-air by a rifle thrust
+into his stomach.
+
+"She broke off her engagement. She came to me because she knew I was
+running the manhunt. She begged me to let you have a chance. She tried
+to buy me. She told me everything that had gone between you. Andy, she
+put her head on my desk and cried while she was begging for you!"
+
+"Stop!" whispered Andrew.
+
+"But I wouldn't lay off your trail, Andy. Why? Because I'm as proud as
+a devil. I'd started to get you and I'd lost Gray Peter trying. And even
+after you saved me from Allister's men I was still figuring how I could
+get you. And then, little by little, I saw that the girl had seen the
+truth. You weren't really a crook. You weren't really a man-killer. You
+were simply a kid that turned into a man in a day--and turned into a
+free man! You were too strong for the law.
+
+"Now, Andrew, here's my point: As long as you stay here in the mountain
+desert you've no chance. You'll be among men who know you. Even if the
+governor pardons you--as he might do if a certain deputy marshal were to
+start pulling strings--you'd run some day into a man who had an old
+grudge against you, and there'd be another explosion. Because there's
+nitroglycerin inside you, son!
+
+"Well, the thing for you to do is to get where men don't wear guns. The
+thing for you to do is to find a girl you love a lot more than you do
+your freedom, even. If that's possible--"
+
+"Where is she?" broke in Andy. "Hal, for pity's sake, tell me where she
+is!"
+
+"I've got her address all written out. She forgot nothing. She left it
+with me, she said, so she could keep in touch with me."
+
+"It's no good," said Andy suddenly. "I could never get through the
+mountains. People know me too well. They know Sally too well."
+
+"Of course they do. So you're not going to go with Sally. You're not
+going to ride a horse. You're going in another way. Everybody's seen
+your picture. But who'd recognize the dashing young man-killer, the
+original wild Andrew Lanning, in the shape of a greasy, dirty tramp,
+with a ten-days-old beard on his face, with a dirty felt hat pulled over
+one eye, and riding the brake beams on the way East? And before you got
+off the beams, Andrew, the governor of this State will have signed a
+pardon for you. Well, lad, what do you say?"
+
+But Andrew, walking like one dazed, had crossed the room slowly. The
+marshal saw him go across to the place where Sally stood; she met him
+halfway, and, in her impudent way, tipped his hat half off his head with
+a toss of her nose. He put his arm around her neck and they walked
+slowly off together.
+
+"Well," said Hal Dozier faintly, "what can you do with a man who don't
+know how to choose between a horse and a girl?"
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Way of the Lawless, by Max Brand
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAY OF THE LAWLESS ***
+
+This file should be named wylaw10.txt or wylaw10.zip
+Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, wylaw11.txt
+VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, wylaw10a.txt
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Dave Morgan,
+Tom Allen and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
+
+Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we usually do not
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance
+of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing.
+Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections,
+even years after the official publication date.
+
+Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til
+midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement.
+The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at
+Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month.  A
+preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment
+and editing by those who wish to do so.
+
+Most people start at our Web sites at:
+http://gutenberg.net or
+http://promo.net/pg
+
+These Web sites include award-winning information about Project
+Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new
+eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!).
+
+
+Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement
+can get to them as follows, and just download by date.  This is
+also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the
+indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an
+announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter.
+
+http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext03 or
+ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext03
+
+Or /etext02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90
+
+Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want,
+as it appears in our Newsletters.
+
+
+Information about Project Gutenberg (one page)
+
+We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work.  The
+time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours
+to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright
+searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc.   Our
+projected audience is one hundred million readers.  If the value
+per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2
+million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text
+files per month:  1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+
+We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002
+If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total
+will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end.
+
+The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks!
+This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers,
+which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users.
+
+Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated):
+
+eBooks Year Month
+
+    1  1971 July
+   10  1991 January
+  100  1994 January
+ 1000  1997 August
+ 1500  1998 October
+ 2000  1999 December
+ 2500  2000 December
+ 3000  2001 November
+ 4000  2001 October/November
+ 6000  2002 December*
+ 9000  2003 November*
+10000  2004 January*
+
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created
+to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people
+and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut,
+Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois,
+Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts,
+Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New
+Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio,
+Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South
+Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West
+Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming.
+
+We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones
+that have responded.
+
+As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list
+will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states.
+Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state.
+
+In answer to various questions we have received on this:
+
+We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally
+request donations in all 50 states.  If your state is not listed and
+you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have,
+just ask.
+
+While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are
+not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting
+donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to
+donate.
+
+International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about
+how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made
+deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are
+ways.
+
+Donations by check or money order may be sent to:
+
+Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+PMB 113
+1739 University Ave.
+Oxford, MS 38655-4109
+
+Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment
+method other than by check or money order.
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by
+the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN
+[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154.  Donations are
+tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law.  As fund-raising
+requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be
+made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+You can get up to date donation information online at:
+
+http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html
+
+
+***
+
+If you can't reach Project Gutenberg,
+you can always email directly to:
+
+Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com>
+
+Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message.
+
+We would prefer to send you information by email.
+
+
+**The Legal Small Print**
+
+
+(Three Pages)
+
+***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START***
+Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers.
+They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with
+your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from
+someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our
+fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement
+disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how
+you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to.
+
+*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK
+By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
+eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept
+this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive
+a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by
+sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person
+you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical
+medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request.
+
+ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS
+This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks,
+is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart
+through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project").
+Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright
+on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and
+distribute it in the United States without permission and
+without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth
+below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook
+under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark.
+
+Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market
+any commercial products without permission.
+
+To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable
+efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain
+works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any
+medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other
+things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
+intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged
+disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer
+codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.
+
+LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES
+But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below,
+[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may
+receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims
+all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including
+legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR
+UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT,
+INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE
+OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE
+POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES.
+
+If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of
+receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any)
+you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that
+time to the person you received it from. If you received it
+on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and
+such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement
+copy. If you received it electronically, such person may
+choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to
+receive it electronically.
+
+THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS
+TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT
+LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A
+PARTICULAR PURPOSE.
+
+Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or
+the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the
+above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you
+may have other legal rights.
+
+INDEMNITY
+You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation,
+and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated
+with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
+texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including
+legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the
+following that you do or cause:  [1] distribution of this eBook,
+[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook,
+or [3] any Defect.
+
+DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm"
+You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by
+disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this
+"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg,
+or:
+
+[1]  Only give exact copies of it.  Among other things, this
+     requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the
+     eBook or this "small print!" statement.  You may however,
+     if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable
+     binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form,
+     including any form resulting from conversion by word
+     processing or hypertext software, but only so long as
+     *EITHER*:
+
+     [*]  The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and
+          does *not* contain characters other than those
+          intended by the author of the work, although tilde
+          (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may
+          be used to convey punctuation intended by the
+          author, and additional characters may be used to
+          indicate hypertext links; OR
+
+     [*]  The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at
+          no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent
+          form by the program that displays the eBook (as is
+          the case, for instance, with most word processors);
+          OR
+
+     [*]  You provide, or agree to also provide on request at
+          no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the
+          eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC
+          or other equivalent proprietary form).
+
+[2]  Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this
+     "Small Print!" statement.
+
+[3]  Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the
+     gross profits you derive calculated using the method you
+     already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  If you
+     don't derive profits, no royalty is due.  Royalties are
+     payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation"
+     the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were
+     legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent
+     periodic) tax return.  Please contact us beforehand to
+     let us know your plans and to work out the details.
+
+WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO?
+Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of
+public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed
+in machine readable form.
+
+The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time,
+public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses.
+Money should be paid to the:
+"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or
+software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at:
+hart@pobox.com
+
+[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only
+when distributed free of all fees.  Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by
+Michael S. Hart.  Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be
+used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be
+they hardware or software or any other related product without
+express permission.]
+
+*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END*
+
diff --git a/old/wylaw10.zip b/old/wylaw10.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5b6fa95
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/wylaw10.zip
diff --git a/old/wylaw10h.htm b/old/wylaw10h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..774a48a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/wylaw10h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,8114 @@
+<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN">
+<html>
+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content=
+    "text/html; charset=iso-8859-1">
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of WAY OF THE LAWLESS, by Max Brand.
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css">
+    <!--
+    * {  font-family: Times;}
+    P {  text-indent: 1em;
+         margin-top: .75em;
+         font-size: 14pt;
+         text-align: justify;
+         margin-bottom: .75em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 {     text-align: center; }
+    HR { width: 33%; }
+    // -->
+    </style>
+   </head>
+<body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Way of the Lawless, by Max Brand
+
+Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the
+copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing
+this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.
+
+This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project
+Gutenberg file.  Please do not remove it.  Do not change or edit the
+header without written permission.
+
+Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the
+eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file.  Included is
+important information about your specific rights and restrictions in
+how the file may be used.  You can also find out about how to make a
+donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.
+
+
+**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
+
+**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
+
+*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****
+
+
+Title: Way of the Lawless
+
+Author: Max Brand
+
+Release Date: February, 2006 [EBook #9903]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on October 29, 2003]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAY OF THE LAWLESS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Dave Morgan, Tom Allen and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h1><!-- Page 1 --><a name="Page_1"></a>WAY OF THE LAWLESS</h1>
+
+<h1>Max Brand</h1>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>1921</h2>
+<!-- Page 2 --><a name="Page_2"></a>
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h3>Previous ed. published under title: Free Range</h3>
+
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><!-- Page 3 --><a name="Page_3"></a>WAY OF THE LAWLESS</h2>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><!-- Page 4 --><a name="Page_4"></a>CHAPTER 1</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>Beside the rear window of the blacksmith shop Jasper Lanning held his
+withered arms folded against his chest. With the dispassionate eye and
+the aching heart of an artist he said to himself that his life work was
+a failure. That life work was the young fellow who swung the sledge at
+the forge, and truly it was a strange product for this seventy-year-old
+veteran with his slant Oriental eyes and his narrow beard of white.
+Andrew Lanning was not even his son, but it came about in this way that
+Andrew became the life work of Jasper.</p>
+
+<p>Fifteen years before, the father of Andy died, and Jasper rode out of
+the mountain desert like a hawk dropping out of the pale-blue sky. He
+buried his brother without a tear, and then sat down and looked at the
+slender child who bore his name. Andy was a beautiful boy. He had the
+black hair and eyes, the well-made jaw, and the bone of the Lannings,
+and if his mouth was rather soft and girlish he laid the failing to the
+weakness of childhood. Jasper had no sympathy for tenderness in men. His
+own life was as littered with hard deeds as the side of a mountain with
+boulders. But the black, bright eyes and the well-made jaw of little
+Andy laid hold on him, and he said to himself: &quot;I'm fifty-five. I'm
+<!-- Page 5 --><a name="Page_5"></a>about through with my saddle days. I'll settle down and turn out one
+piece of work that'll last after I'm gone, and last with my signature
+on it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>That was fifteen years ago. And for fifteen years he had labored to make
+Andy a man according to a grim pattern which was known in the Lanning
+clan, and elsewhere in the mountain desert. His program was as simple as
+the curriculum of a Persian youth. On the whole, it was even simpler,
+for Jasper concentrated on teaching the boy how to ride and shoot, and
+was not at all particular that he should learn to speak the truth. But
+on the first two and greatest articles of his creed, how Jasper labored!</p>
+
+<p>For fifteen years he poured his heart without stint into his work! He
+taught Andy to know a horse from hock to teeth, and to ride anything
+that wore hair. He taught him to know a gun as if it were a sentient
+thing. He taught him all the draws of old and new pattern, and labored
+to give him both precision and speed. That was the work of fifteen
+years, and now at the end of this time the old man knew that his life
+work was a failure, for he had made the hand of Andrew Lanning cunning,
+had given his muscles strength, but the heart beneath was wrong.</p>
+
+<p>It was hard to see Andy at the first glance. A film of smoke shifted and
+eddied through the shop, and Andy, working the bellows, was a black form
+against the square of the door, a square filled by the blinding white of
+the alkali dust in the road outside and the blinding white of the sun
+above. Andy turned from the forge, bearing in his tongs a great bar of
+iron black at the ends but white in the middle. The white place was
+surrounded by a sparkling radiance. Andy caught up an eight-pound
+hammer, and it rose and fell lightly in his hand. The sparks rushed
+against the leather apron of the hammer wielder, and as the blows fell
+rapid waves of light were thrown against the face of Andrew.</p>
+
+<p>Looking at that face one wondered how the life work of <!-- Page 6 --><a name="Page_6"></a>Jasper was such
+a failure. For Andy was a handsome fellow with his blue-black hair and
+his black, rather slanting eyes, after the Lanning manner. Yet Jasper
+saw, and his heart was sick. The face was a little too full; the square
+bone of the chin was rounded with flesh; and, above all, the mouth had
+never changed. It was the mouth of the child, soft&mdash;too womanly soft.
+And Jasper blinked.</p>
+
+<p>When he opened his eyes again the white place on the iron had become a
+dull red, and the face of the blacksmith was again in shadow. All Jasper
+could see was the body of Andy, and that was much better. Red light
+glinted on the sinewy arms and the swaying shoulders, and the hammer
+swayed and fell tirelessly. For fifteen years Jasper had consoled
+himself with the strength of the boy, smooth as silk and as durable; the
+light form which would not tire a horse, but swelled above the waist
+into those formidable shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>Now the bar was lifted from the anvil and plunged, hissing, into the
+bucket beside the forge; above the bucket a cloud of steam rose and
+showed clearly against the brilliant square of the door, and the
+peculiar scent which came from the iron went sharply to the nostrils of
+Jasper. He got up as a horseman entered the shop. He came in a manner
+that pleased Jasper. There was a rush of hoofbeats, a form darting
+through the door, and in the midst of the shop the rider leaped out of
+the saddle and the horse came to a halt with braced legs.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hey, you!&quot; called the rider as he tossed the reins over the head of his
+horse. &quot;Here's a hoss that needs iron on his feet. Fix him up. And look
+here&quot;&mdash;he lifted a forefoot and showed the scales on the frog and sole
+of the hoof&mdash;&quot;last time you shoed this hoss you done a sloppy job, son.
+You left all this stuff hangin' on here. I want it trimmed off nice an'
+neat. You hear?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The blacksmith shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Spoils the hoof to put the knife on the sole, Buck,&quot; said <!-- Page 7 --><a name="Page_7"></a>the smith.
+&quot;That peels off natural.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;H'm,&quot; said Buck Heath. &quot;How old are you, son?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, old enough,&quot; answered Andy cheerily. &quot;Old enough to know that this
+exfoliation is entirely natural.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The big word stuck in the craw of Buck Heath, who brought his thick
+eyebrows together. &quot;I've rid horses off and on come twenty-five years,&quot;
+he declared, &quot;and I've rid 'em long enough to know how I want 'em shod.
+This is my hoss, son, and you do it my way. That straight?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The eye of old Jasper in the rear of the shop grew dim with wistfulness
+as he heard this talk. He knew Buck Heath; he knew his kind; in his day
+he would have eaten a dozen men of such rough words and such mild deeds
+as Buck. But searching the face of Andy, he saw no resentment. Merely a
+quiet resignation.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Another thing,&quot; said Buck Heath, who seemed determined to press the
+thing to a disagreeable point. &quot;I hear you don't fit your shoes on
+hot. Well?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I never touch a hoof with hot iron,&quot; replied Andy. &quot;It's a rotten
+practice.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is it?&quot; said Buck Heath coldly. &quot;Well, son, you fit my hoss with hot
+shoes or I'll know the reason why.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've got to do the work my own way,&quot; protested Andy.</p>
+
+<p>A spark of hope burned in the slant eyes of Jasper.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Otherwise I can go find another gent to do my shoein'?&quot; inquired Buck.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It looks that way,&quot; replied the blacksmith with a nod.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; said Buck, whose mildness of the last question had been merely
+the cover for a bursting wrath that now sent his voice booming, &quot;maybe
+you know a whole pile, boy&mdash;I hear Jasper has give you consid'able
+education&mdash;but what you know is plumb wasted on me. Understand? As for
+lookin' up another blacksmith, you ought to know they ain't another shop
+in ten miles. You'll do this job, and you'll do <!-- Page 8 --><a name="Page_8"></a>it my way. Maybe you
+got another way of thinkin'?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a little pause.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's your horse,&quot; repeated Andy. &quot;I suppose I can do him your own way.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Old Jasper closed his eyes in silent agony. Looking again, he saw Buck
+Heath grinning with contempt, and for a single moment Jasper touched his
+gun. Then he remembered that he was seventy years old. &quot;Well, Buck?&quot; he
+said, coming forward. For he felt that if this scene continued he would
+go mad with shame.</p>
+
+<p>There was a great change in Buck as he heard this voice, a marked
+respect was in his manner as he turned to Jasper. &quot;Hello, Jas,&quot; he said.
+&quot;I didn't know you was here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come over to the saloon, Buck, and have one on me,&quot; said Jasper. &quot;I
+guess Andy'll have your hoss ready when we come back.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Speakin' personal,&quot; said Buck Heath with much heartiness, &quot;I don't pass
+up no chances with no man, and particular if he's Jasper Lanning.&quot; He
+hooked his arm through Jasper's elbow. &quot;Besides, that boy of yours has
+got me all heated up. Where'd he learn them man-sized words, Jas?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>All of which Andy heard, and he knew that Buck Heath intended him to
+hear them. It made Andy frown, and for an instant he thought of calling
+Buck back. But he did not call. Instead he imagined what would happen.
+Buck would turn on his heel and stand, towering, in the door. He would
+ask what Andy wanted. Andy chose the careful insult which he would throw
+in Buck's face. He saw the blow given. He felt his own fist tingle as he
+returned the effort with interest. He saw Buck tumble back over the
+bucket of water.</p>
+
+<p>By this time Andy was smiling gently to himself. His wrath had
+dissolved, and he was humming pleasantly to himself as he began to pull
+off the worn shoes of Buck's horse.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><!-- Page 9 --><a name="Page_9"></a>CHAPTER 2</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>Young Andrew Lanning lived in the small, hushed world of his own
+thoughts. He neither loved nor hated the people around him. He simply
+did not see them. His mother&mdash;it was from her that he inherited the
+softer qualities of his mind and his face&mdash;had left him a little stock
+of books. And though Andy was by no means a reader, he had at least
+picked up that dangerous equipment of fiction which enables a man to
+dodge reality and live in his dreams. Those dreams had as little as
+possible to do with the daily routine of his life, and certainly the
+handling of guns, which his uncle enforced upon him, was never a part of
+the future as Andy saw it.</p>
+
+<p>It was now the late afternoon; the alkali dust in the road was still in
+a white light, but the temperature in the shop had dropped several
+degrees. The horse of Buck Heath was shod, and Andy was laying his tools
+away for the day when he heard the noise of an automobile with open
+muffler coming down the street. He stepped to the door to watch, and at
+that moment a big blue car trundled into view around the bend of the
+road. The rear wheels struck a slide of sand and dust, and skidded; a
+girl cried out; then the big machine gathered out of the cloud of dust,
+and came toward Andy with a crackling like musketry, and it was plain
+that it would leap through Martindale and away into the country beyond
+at a bound. Andy could see now that it was a roadster, low-hung,
+ponderous, to keep the road.</p>
+
+<p>Pat Gregg was leaving the saloon; he was on his horse, but he sat the
+saddle slanting, and his head was turned to give the farewell word to
+several figures who bulged through the door of the saloon. For that
+reason, as well as <!-- Page 10 --><a name="Page_10"></a>because of the fumes in his brain, he did not hear
+the coming of the automobile. His friends from the saloon yelled a
+warning, but he evidently thought it some jest, as he waved his hand
+with a grin of appreciation. The big car was coming, rocking with its
+speed; it was too late now to stop that flying mass of metal.</p>
+
+<p>But the driver made the effort. His brakes shrieked, and still the car
+shot on with scarcely abated speed, for the wheels could secure no
+purchase in the thin sand of the roadway. Andy's heart stood still in
+sympathy as he saw the face of the driver whiten and grow tense. Charles
+Merchant, the son of rich John Merchant, was behind the wheel. Drunken
+Pat Gregg had taken the warning at last. He turned in the saddle and
+drove home his spurs, but even that had been too late had not Charles
+Merchant taken the big chance. At the risk of overturning the machine he
+veered it sharply to the left. It hung for a moment on two wheels. Andy
+could count a dozen heartbeats while the plunging car edged around the
+horse and shoved between Pat and the wall of the house&mdash;inches on either
+side. Yet it must have taken not more than the split part of a second.</p>
+
+<p>There was a shout of applause from the saloon; Pat Gregg sat his horse,
+mouth open, his face pale, and then the heavy car rolled past the
+blacksmith shop. Andy, breathing freely and cold to his finger tips, saw
+young Charlie Merchant relax to a flickering smile as the girl beside
+him caught his arm and spoke to him.</p>
+
+<p>And then Andy saw her for the first time.</p>
+
+<p>In the brief instant as the machine moved by, he printed the picture to
+be seen again when she was gone. What was the hair? Red bronze, and
+fiery where the sun caught at it, and the eyes were gray, or blue, or a
+gray-green. But colors did not matter. It was all in her smile and the
+turning of her eyes, which were very wide open. She spoke, and it was in
+the sound of her voice. &quot;<!-- Page 11 --><a name="Page_11"></a>Wait!&quot; shouted Andy Lanning as he made a step
+toward them. But the car went on, rocking over the bumps and the exhaust
+roaring. Andy became aware that his shout had been only a dry whisper.
+Besides, what would he say if they did stop?</p>
+
+<p>And then the girl turned sharply about and looked back, not at the horse
+they had so nearly struck, but at Andy standing in the door of his shop.
+He felt sure that she would remember his face; her smile had gone out
+while she stared, and now she turned her head suddenly to the front.
+Once more the sun flashed on her hair; then the machine disappeared. In
+a moment even the roar of the engine was lost, but it came back again,
+flung in echoes from some hillside.</p>
+
+<p>Not until all was silent, and the boys from the saloon were shaking
+hands with Pat and laughing at him, did Andy turn back into the
+blacksmith shop. He sat down on the anvil with his heart beating, and
+began to recall the picture. Yes, it was all in the smile and the glint
+of the eyes. And something else&mdash;how should he say it?&mdash;of the light
+shining through her.</p>
+
+<p>He stood up presently, closed the shop, and went home. Afterward his
+uncle came in a fierce humor, slamming the door. He found Andy sitting
+in front of the table staring down at his hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Buck Heath has been talkin' about you,&quot; said Jasper.</p>
+
+<p>Andy raised his head. &quot;Look at 'em!&quot; he said as he spread out his hands.
+&quot;I been scrubbin' 'em with sand soap for half an hour, and the oil and
+the iron dust won't come out.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Uncle Jasper, who had a quiet voice and gentle manners, now stood rigid.
+&quot;I wisht to God that some iron dust would work its way into your
+soul,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What are you talking about?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothin' you could understand; you need a mother to explain things to
+you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The other got up, white about the mouth. &quot;I think I <!-- Page 12 --><a name="Page_12"></a>do,&quot; said Andy.
+&quot;I'm sick inside.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where's supper?&quot; demanded Jasper.</p>
+
+<p>Andy sat down again, and began to consider his hands once more. &quot;There's
+something wrong&mdash;something dirty about this life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is there?&quot; Uncle Jasper leaned across the table, and once again the old
+ghost of a hope was flickering behind his eyes. &quot;Who's been talkin'
+to you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He thought of the grinning men of the saloon; the hidden words. Somebody
+might have gone out and insulted Andy to his face for the first time.
+There had been plenty of insults in the past two years, since Andy could
+pretend to manhood, but none that might not be overlooked. &quot;Who's been
+talkin' to you?&quot; repeated Uncle Jasper. &quot;Confound that Buck Heath! He's
+the cause of all the trouble!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Buck Heath! Who's he? Oh, I remember. What's he got to do with the
+rotten life we lead here, Uncle Jas?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So?&quot; said the old man slowly. &quot;He ain't nothin'?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bah!&quot; remarked Andy. &quot;You want me to go out and fight him? I won't. I
+got no love for fighting. Makes me sort of sickish.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Heaven above!&quot; the older man invoked. &quot;Ain't you got shame? My blood in
+you, too!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't talk like that,&quot; said Andy with a certain amount of reserve which
+was not natural to him. &quot;You bother me. I want a little silence and a
+chance to think things out. There's something wrong in the way I've
+been living.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're the last to find it out.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you keep this up I'm going to take a walk so I can have quiet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You'll sit there, son, till I'm through with you. Now, Andrew, these
+years I've been savin' up for this moment when I was sure that&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>To his unutterable astonishment Andy rose and stepped between him and
+the door. &quot;Uncle Jas,&quot; he said, &quot;mostly <!-- Page 13 --><a name="Page_13"></a>I got a lot of respect for you
+and what you think. Tonight I don't care what you or anybody else has to
+say. Just one thing matters. I feel I've been living in the dirt. I'm
+going out and see what's wrong. Good night.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 3</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>Uncle Jas was completely bowled over. Over against the wall as the door
+closed he was saying to himself: &quot;What's happened? What's happened?&quot; As
+far as he could make out his nephew retained very little fear of the
+authority of Jasper Lanning.</p>
+
+<p>One thing became clear to the old man. There had to be a decision
+between his nephew and some full-grown man, otherwise Andy was very apt
+to grow up into a sneaking coward. And in the matter of a contest Jasper
+could not imagine a better trial horse than Buck Heath. For Buck was
+known to be violent with his hands, but he was not likely to draw his
+gun, and, more than this, he might even be bluffed down without making a
+show of a fight. Uncle Jasper left his house supperless, and struck down
+the street until he came to the saloon.</p>
+
+<p>He found Buck Heath warming to his work, resting both elbows on the bar.
+Bill Dozier was with him, Bill who was the black sheep in the fine old
+Dozier family. His brother, Hal Dozier, was by many odds the most
+respected and the most feared man in the region, but of all the good
+Dozier qualities Bill inherited only their fighting capacity. He fought;
+he loved trouble; and for that reason, and not because he needed the
+money, he was now acting as a deputy sheriff. He was jesting with Buck
+Heath in a rather superior manner, half contemptuous, half amused by
+Buck's alcoholic <!-- Page 14 --><a name="Page_14"></a>swaggerings. And Buck was just sober enough to
+perceive that he was being held lightly. He hated Dozier for that
+treatment, but he feared him too much to take open offense. It was at
+this opportune moment that old man Lanning, apparently half out of
+breath, touched Buck on the elbow.</p>
+
+<p>As Buck turned with a surly &quot;What the darnation?&quot; the other whispered:
+&quot;Be on your way, Buck. Get out of town, and get out of trouble. My boy
+hears you been talkin' about him, and he allows as how he'll get you.
+He's out for you now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The fumes cleared sufficiently from Buck Heath's mind to allow him to
+remember that Jasper Lanning's boy was no other than the milk-blooded
+Andy. He told Jasper to lead his boy on. There was a reception committee
+waiting for him there in the person of one Buck Heath.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't be a fool, Buck,&quot; said Jasper, glancing over his shoulder. &quot;Don't
+you know that Andy's a crazy, man-killin' fool when he gets started? And
+he's out for blood now. You just slide out of town and come back when
+his blood's cooled down.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Buck Heath took another drink from the bottle in his pocket, and then
+regarded Jasper moodily. &quot;Partner,&quot; he declared gloomily, putting his
+hand on the shoulder of Jasper, &quot;maybe Andy's a man-eater, but I'm a
+regular Andy-eater, and here's the place where I go and get my feed.
+Lemme loose!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He kicked open the door of the saloon. &quot;Where is he?&quot; demanded the
+roaring Andy-eater. Less savagely, he went on: &quot;I'm lookin' for
+my meat!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jasper Lanning and Bill Dozier exchanged glances of understanding.
+&quot;Partly drunk, but mostly yaller,&quot; observed Bill Dozier. &quot;Soon as the
+air cools him off outside he'll mount his hoss and get on his way. But,
+say, is your boy really out for his scalp?&quot; &quot;<!-- Page 15 --><a name="Page_15"></a>Looks that way,&quot; declared
+Jasper with tolerable gravity.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I didn't know he was that kind,&quot; said Bill Dozier. And Jasper flushed,
+for the imputation was clear. They went together to the window and
+looked out.</p>
+
+<p>It appeared that Bill Dozier was right. After standing in the middle of
+the street in the twilight for a moment, Buck Heath turned and went
+straight for his horse. A low murmur passed around the saloon, for other
+men were at the windows watching. They had heard Buck's talk earlier in
+the day, and they growled as they saw him turn tail.</p>
+
+<p>Two moments more and Buck would have been on his horse, but in those two
+moments luck took a hand. Around the corner came Andrew Lanning with his
+head bowed in thought. At once a roar went up from every throat in the
+saloon: &quot;There's your man. Go to him!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Buck Heath turned from his horse; Andrew lifted his head. They were face
+to face, and it was hard to tell to which one of them the other was the
+least welcome. But Andrew spoke first. A thick silence had fallen in the
+saloon. Most of the onlookers wore careless smiles, for the caliber of
+these two was known, and no one expected violence; but Jasper Lanning,
+at the door, stood with a sick face. He was praying in the silence.</p>
+
+<p>Every one could hear Andrew say: &quot;I hear you've been making a talk about
+me, Buck?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was a fair enough opening. The blood ran more freely in the veins of
+Jasper. Perhaps the quiet of his boy had not been altogether the quiet
+of cowardice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Aw,&quot; answered Buck Heath, &quot;don't you be takin' everything you hear for
+gospel. What kind of talk do you mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's layin' down,&quot; said Bill Dozier, and his voice was soft but audible
+in the saloon. &quot;The skunk!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was about to say,&quot; said Andrew, &quot;that I think you had no cause for
+talk. I've done you no harm, Buck.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The hush in the saloon became thicker; eyes of pity <!-- Page 16 --><a name="Page_16"></a>turned on that
+proved man, Jasper Lanning. He had bowed his head. And the words of the
+younger man had an instant effect on Buck Heath. They seemed to
+infuriate him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You've done me no harm?&quot; he echoed. He let his voice out; he even
+glanced back and took pleasurable note of the crowded faces behind the
+dim windows of the saloon. Just then Geary, the saloon keeper, lighted
+one of the big lamps, and at once all the faces at the windows became
+black silhouettes. &quot;You done me no harm?&quot; repeated Buck Heath. &quot;Ain't
+you been goin' about makin' a talk that you was after me? Well, son,
+here I am. Now let's see you eat!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've said nothing about you,&quot; declared Andy. There was a groan from the
+saloon. Once more all eyes flashed across to Jasper Lanning.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bah!&quot; snorted Buck Heath, and raised his hand. To crown the horror, the
+other stepped back. A little puff of alkali dust attested the movement.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll tell you,&quot; roared Buck, &quot;you ain't fittin' for a man's hand to
+touch, you ain't. A hosswhip is more your style.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>From the pommel of his saddle he snatched his quirt. It whirled, hummed
+in the air, and then cracked on the shoulders of Andrew. In the dimness
+of the saloon door a gun flashed in the hand of Jasper Lanning. It was a
+swift draw, but he was not in time to shoot, for Andy, with a cry,
+ducked in under the whip as it raised for the second blow and grappled
+with Buck Heath. They swayed, then separated as though they had been
+torn apart. But the instant of contact had told Andy a hundred things.
+He was much smaller than the other, but he knew that he was far and away
+stronger after that grapple. It cleared his brain, and his nerves
+ceased jumping.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Keep off,&quot; he said. &quot;I've no wish to harm you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You houn' dog!&quot; yelled Buck, and leaped in with a driving fist.</p>
+
+<p>It bounced off the shoulder of Andrew. At the same time <!-- Page 17 --><a name="Page_17"></a>he saw those
+banked heads at the windows of the saloon, and knew it was a trap for
+him. All the scorn and the grief which had been piling up in him, all
+the cold hurt went into the effort as he stepped in and snapped his fist
+into the face of Buck Heath. He rose with the blow; all his energy, from
+wrist to instep, was in that lifting drive. Then there was a jarring
+impact that made his arm numb to the shoulder. Buck Heath looked blankly
+at him, wavered, and pitched loosely forward on his face. And his head
+bounced back as it struck the ground. It was a horrible thing to see,
+but it brought one wild yell of joy from the saloon&mdash;the voice of
+Jasper Lanning.</p>
+
+<p>Andrew had dropped to his knees and turned the body upon its back. The
+stone had been half buried in the dust, but it had cut a deep, ragged
+gash on the forehead of Buck. His eyes were open, glazed; his mouth
+sagged; and as the first panic seized Andy he fumbled at the heart of
+the senseless man and felt no beat.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dead!&quot; exclaimed Andy, starting to his feet. Men were running toward
+him from the saloon, and their eagerness made him see a picture he had
+once seen before. A man standing in the middle of a courtroom; the place
+crowded; the judge speaking from behind the desk: &quot;&mdash;to be hanged by the
+neck until&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A revolver came into the hand of Andrew. And when he found his voice,
+there was a snapping tension in it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Stop!&quot; he called. The scattering line stopped like horses thrown back
+on their haunches by jerked bridle reins. &quot;And don't make no move,&quot;
+continued Andy, gathering the reins of Buck's horse behind him. A
+blanket of silence had dropped on the street.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The first gent that shows metal,&quot; said Andy, &quot;I'll drill him. Keep
+steady!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He turned and flashed into the saddle. Once more his gun covered them.
+He found his mind working swiftly, <!-- Page 18 --><a name="Page_18"></a>calmly. His knees pressed the long
+holster of an old-fashioned rifle. He knew that make of gun from toe to
+foresight; he could assemble it in the dark.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You, Perkins! Get your hands away from your hip. Higher, blast you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He was obeyed. His voice was thin, but it kept that line of hands high
+above their heads. When he moved his gun the whole line winced; it was
+as if his will were communicated to them on electric currents. He sent
+his horse into a walk; into a trot; then dropped along the saddle, and
+was plunging at full speed down the street, leaving a trail of sharp
+alkali dust behind him and a long, tingling yell.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 4</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>Only one man in the crowd was old enough to recognize that yell, and the
+one man was Jasper Lanning. A great, singing happiness filled his heart
+and his throat. But the shouting of the men as they tumbled into their
+saddles cleared his brain. He called to Deputy Bill Dozier, who was
+kneeling beside the prostrate form of Buck Heath: &quot;Call 'em off, Bill.
+Call 'em off, or, by the Lord, I'll take a hand in this! He done it in
+self-defense. He didn't even pull a gun on Buck. Bill, call 'em off!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Bill did it most effectually. He straightened, and then got up.
+&quot;Some of you fools get some sense, will you?&quot; he called. &quot;Buck ain't
+dead; he's just knocked out!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It brought them back, a shamefaced crew, laughing at each other.
+&quot;Where's a doctor?&quot; demanded Bill Dozier.</p>
+
+<p>Someone who had an inkling of how wounds should be cared for was
+instantly at work over Buck. &quot;He's not dead,&quot; pronounced this authority,
+&quot;but he's danged close to it. <!-- Page 19 --><a name="Page_19"></a>Fractured skull, that's what he's got.
+And a fractured jaw, too, looks to me. Yep, you can hear the
+bone grate!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jasper Lanning was in the midst of a joyous monologue. &quot;You seen it,
+boys? One punch done it. That's what the Lannings are&mdash;the one-punch
+kind. And you seen him get to his gun? Handy! Lord, but it done me good
+to see him mosey that piece of iron off'n his hip. And see him take that
+saddle? Where was you with your gal, Joe? Nowhere! Looked to me like&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The voice of Bill Dozier broke in: &quot;I want a posse. Who'll ride with
+Bill Dozier tonight?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It sobered Jasper Lanning. &quot;What d'you mean by that?&quot; he asked. &quot;Didn't
+the boy fight clean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Maybe,&quot; admitted Dozier. &quot;But Buck may kick out. And if he dies they's
+got to be a judge talk to your boy. Come on. I want volunteers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dozier, what's all this fool talk?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't bother me, Lanning. I got a duty to perform, ain't I? Think I'm
+going to let 'em say later on that anybody done this and then got away
+from Bill Dozier? Not me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bill,&quot; said Jasper, &quot;I read in your mind. You're lookin' for action,
+and you want to get it out of Andy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I want nothin' but to get him back.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Think he'll let you come close enough to talk? He'll think you want him
+for murder, that's what. Keep off of this boy, Bill. Let him hear the
+news; then he'll come back well enough.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You waste my time,&quot; said Bill, &quot;and all the while a man that the law
+wants is puttin' ground between him and Martindale. Now, boys, you hear
+me talk. Who's with Bill Dozier to bring back this milk-fed kid?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It brought a snarl from Jasper Lanning. &quot;Why don't you go after him by
+yourself, Dozier? I had your job once and I didn't ask no helpers
+on it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Bill Dozier apparently had no liking for a lonely ride. <!-- Page 20 --><a name="Page_20"></a>He made his
+demand once more, and the volunteers came out. In five minutes he had
+selected five sturdy men, and every one of the five was a man whose name
+was known.</p>
+
+<p>They went down the street of Martindale without shouting and at a steady
+lope which their horses could keep up indefinitely. Old Jasper followed
+them to the end of the village and kept on watching through the dusk
+until the six horsemen loomed on the hill beyond against the sky line.
+They were still cantering, and they rode close together like a tireless
+pack of wolves. After this old Jasper went back to his house, and when
+the door closed behind him a lonely echo went through the place.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bah!&quot; said Jasper. &quot;I'm getting soft!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime the posse went on, regardless of direction. There were
+only two possible paths for a horseman out of Martindale; east and west
+the mountains blocked the way, and young Lanning had started north.
+Straight ahead of them the mountains shot up on either side of Grant's
+Pass, and toward this natural landmark Bill Dozier led the way. Not that
+he expected to have to travel as far as this. He felt fairly certain
+that the fugitive would ride out his horse at full speed, and then he
+would camp for the night and make a fire.</p>
+
+<p>Andrew Lanning was town bred and soft of skin from the work at the
+forge. When the biting night air got through his clothes he would need
+warmth from a fire.</p>
+
+<p>Bill Dozier led on his men for three hours at a steady pace until they
+came to Sullivan's ranch house in the valley. The place was dark, but
+the deputy threw a loose circle of his men around the house, and then
+knocked at the front door. Old man Sullivan answered in his bare feet.
+Did he know of the passing of young Lanning? Not only that, but he had
+sold Andrew a horse. It seemed that Andrew was making a hurried trip;
+that Buck Heath had loaned him his horse for the first leg of it, and
+that Buck would call later for the <!-- Page 21 --><a name="Page_21"></a>animal. It had sounded strange, but
+Sullivan was not there to ask questions. He had led Andrew to the corral
+and told him to make his choice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There was an old pinto in there,&quot; said Sullivan, &quot;all leather in that
+hoss. You know him, Joe. Well, the boy runs his eye over the bunch, and
+then picks the pinto right off. I said he wasn't for sale, but he
+wouldn't take anything else. I figured a stiff price, and then added a
+hundred to it. Lanning didn't wink. He took the horse, but he didn't pay
+cash. Told me I'd have to trust him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Bill Dozier bade Sullivan farewell, gathered his five before the house,
+and made them a speech. Bill had a long, lean face, a misty eye, and a
+pair of drooping, sad mustaches. As Jasper Lanning once said: &quot;Bill
+Dozier always looked like he was just away from a funeral or just goin'
+to one.&quot; This night the dull eye of Bill was alight.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gents,&quot; he said, &quot;maybe you-all is disappointed. I heard some talk
+comin' up here that maybe the boy had laid over for the night in
+Sullivan's house. Which he may be a fool, but he sure ain't a plumb
+fool. But, speakin' personal, this trail looks more and more interestin'
+to me. Here he's left Buck's hoss, so he ain't exactly a hoss
+thief&mdash;yet. And he's promised to pay for the pinto, so that don't make
+him a crook. But when the pinto gives out, Andy'll be in country where
+he mostly ain't known. He can't take things on trust, and he'll mostly
+take 'em, anyway. Boys, looks to me like we was after the real article.
+Anybody weakenin'?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was suggested that the boy would be overtaken before the pinto gave
+out; it was even suggested that this waiting for Andrew Lanning to
+commit a crime was perilously like forcing him to become a criminal. To
+all of this the deputy listened sadly, combing his mustaches. The hunger
+for the manhunt is like the hunger for food, and Bill Dozier had been
+starved for many a day.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Partner,&quot; said Bill to the last speaker, &quot;ain't we makin' <!-- Page 22 --><a name="Page_22"></a>all the
+speed we can? Ain't it what I want to come up to the fool kid and grab
+him before he makes a hoss thief or somethin' out of himself? You gents
+feed your hosses the spur and leave the thinkin' to me. I got a pile
+of hunches.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was no questioning of such a known man as Bill Dozier. The six
+went rattling up the valley at a smart pace. Yet Andy's change of horses
+at Sullivan's place changed the entire problem. He had ridden his first
+mount to a stagger at full speed, and it was to be expected that, having
+built up a comfortable lead, he would settle his second horse to a
+steady pace and maintain it.</p>
+
+<p>All night the six went on, with Bill Dozier's long-striding chestnut
+setting the pace. He made no effort toward a spurt now. Andrew Lanning
+led them by a full hour's riding on a comparatively fresh horse, and,
+unless he were foolish enough to indulge in another wild spurt, they
+could not wear him down in this first stage of the journey. There was
+only the chance that he would build a fire recklessly near to the trail,
+but still they came to no sign of light, and then the dawn broke and
+Bill Dozier found unmistakable signs of a trotting horse which went
+straight up the valley. There were no other fresh tracks pointing in the
+same direction, and this must be Andy's horse. And the fact that he was
+trotting told many things. He was certainly saving his mount for a long
+grind. Bill Dozier looked about at his men in the gray morning. They
+were a hard-faced lot; he had not picked them for tenderness. They were
+weary now, but the fugitive must be still wearier, for he had fear to
+keep him company and burden his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>And now they came to a surprising break in the trail. It twisted from
+the floor of the valley up a steep slope, crossed the low crest of the
+hills, and finally came out above a broad and open valley.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What does he mean,&quot; said Bill Dozier aloud, &quot;by breakin' for Jack
+Merchant's house?&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><!-- Page 23 --><a name="Page_23"></a>CHAPTER 5</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>The yell with which Andrew Lanning had shot out of Martindale, and which
+only Jasper Lanning had recognized, was no more startling to the men of
+the village than it was to Andrew himself. Mingled in an ecstasy of
+emotion, there was fear, hate, anger, grief, and the joy of freedom in
+that cry; but it froze the marrow of Andy's bones to hear it.</p>
+
+<p>Fear, most of all, was driving him out of the village. Just as he rushed
+around the bend of the street he looked back to the crowd of men
+tumbling upon their horses; every hand there would be against him. He
+knew them. He ran over their names and faces. Thirty seconds before he
+would rather have walked on the edge of a cliff than rouse the anger of
+a single one among these men, and now, by one blow, he had started them
+all after him.</p>
+
+<p>Once, as he topped the rise, the folly of attempting to escape from
+their long-proved cunning made him draw in on the rein a little; but the
+horse only snorted and shook his head and burst into a greater effort of
+speed. After all, the horse was right, Andy decided. For the moment he
+thought of turning and facing that crowd, but he remembered stories
+about men who had killed the enemy in fair fight, but who had been tried
+by a mob jury and strung to the nearest tree.</p>
+
+<p>Any sane man might have told Andrew that those days were some distance
+in the past, but Andy made no distinction between periods. He knew the
+most exciting events which had happened around Martindale in the past
+fifty years, and he saw no difference between one generation and the
+next. <!-- Page 24 --><a name="Page_24"></a>Was not Uncle Jasper himself continually dinning into his ears
+the terrible possibilities of trouble? Was not Uncle Jasper, even in his
+old age, religiously exacting in his hour or more of gun exercise each
+day? Did not Uncle Jasper force Andy to go through the same maneuvers
+for twice as long between sunset and sunrise? And why all these endless
+preparations if these men of Martindale were not killers?</p>
+
+<p>It might seem strange that Andy could have lived so long among these
+people without knowing them better, but he had taken from his mother a
+little strain of shyness. He never opened his mind to other people, and
+they really never opened themselves to Andy Lanning. The men of
+Martindale wore guns, and the conclusion had always been apparent to
+Andy that they wore guns because, in a pinch, they were ready to
+kill men.</p>
+
+<p>To Andy Lanning, as fear whipped him north out of Martindale, there
+seemed no pleasure or safety in the world except in the speed of his
+horse and the whir of the air against his face. When that speed faltered
+he went to the quirt. He spurred mercilessly. Yet he had ridden his
+horse out to a stagger before he reached old Sullivan's place. Only when
+the forefeet of the mustang began to pound did he realize his folly in
+exhausting his horse when the race was hardly begun. He went into the
+ranch house to get a new mount.</p>
+
+<p>When he was calmer, he realized that he had played his part
+well&mdash;astonishingly well. His voice had not quivered. His eye had met
+that of the old rancher every moment. His hand had been as steady
+as iron.</p>
+
+<p>Something that Uncle Jasper had said recurred to him, something about
+iron dust. He felt now that there was indeed a strong, hard metal in
+him; fear had put it there&mdash;or was it fear itself? Was it not fear that
+had brought the gun into his hand so easily when the crowd rushed him
+from the <!-- Page 25 --><a name="Page_25"></a>door of the saloon? Was it not fear that had made his nerves
+so rocklike as he faced that crowd and made his get-away?</p>
+
+<p>He was on one side now, and the world was on the other. He turned in the
+saddle and probed the thick blackness with his eyes; then he sent the
+pinto on at an easy, ground-devouring lope. Sometimes, as the ravine
+narrowed, the close walls made the creaking of the saddle leather loud
+in his ears, and the puffing of the pinto, who hated work; sometimes the
+hoofs scuffed noisily through gravel; but usually the soft sand muffled
+the noise of hoofs, and there was a silence as dense as the night around
+Andy Lanning.</p>
+
+<p>Thinking back, he felt that it was all absurd and dreamlike. He had
+never hurt a man before in his life. Martindale knew it. Why could he
+not go back, face them, give up his gun, wait for the law to speak?</p>
+
+<p>But when he thought of this he thought a moment later of a crowd rushing
+their horses through the night, leaning over their saddles to break the
+wind more easily, and all ready to kill on this man trail.</p>
+
+<p>All at once a great hate welled up in him, and he went on with gritting
+teeth.</p>
+
+<p>It was out of this anger, oddly enough, that the memory of the girl came
+to him. She was like the falling of this starlight, pure, aloof, and
+strange and gentle. It seemed to Andrew Lanning that the instant of
+seeing her outweighed the rest of his life, but he would never see her
+again. How could he see her, and if he saw her, what would he say to
+her? It would not be necessary to speak. One glance would be enough.</p>
+
+<p>But, sooner or later, Bill Dozier would reach him. Why not sooner? Why
+not take the chance, ride to John Merchant's ranch, break a way to the
+room where the girl slept this night, smash open the door, look at her
+once, and then fight his way out?</p>
+
+<p>He swung out of the ravine and headed across the hills. <!-- Page 26 --><a name="Page_26"></a>From the crest
+the valley was broad and dark below him, and on the opposite side the
+hills were blacker still. He let the pinto go down the steep slope at a
+walk, for there is nothing like a fast pace downhill to tear the heart
+out of a horse. Besides, it came to him after he started, were not the
+men of Bill Dozier apt to miss this sudden swinging of the trail?</p>
+
+<p>In the floor of the valley he sent the pinto again into the stretching
+canter, found the road, and went on with a thin cloud of the alkali dust
+about him until the house rose suddenly out of the ground, a black mass
+whose gables seemed to look at him like so many heads above the
+tree-tops.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 6</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>The house would have been more in place on the main street of a town
+than here in the mountain desert; but when the first John Merchant had
+made his stake and could build his home as it pleased him to build, his
+imagination harked back to a mid-Victorian model, built of wood, with
+high, pointed roofs, many carved balconies and windows, and several
+towers. Here the second John Merchant lived with his son Charles, whose
+taste had quite outgrown the house.</p>
+
+<p>But to the uneducated eye of Andrew Lanning it was a great and dignified
+building. He reined the pinto under the trees to look up at that tall,
+black mass. It was doubly dark against the sky, for now the first
+streaks of gray light were pale along the eastern horizon, and the house
+seemed to tower up into the center of the heavens. Andy sighed at the
+thought of stealing through the great halls within. Even if he could
+find an open window, or if the door were unlatched, <!-- Page 27 --><a name="Page_27"></a>how could he
+find the girl?</p>
+
+<p>Another thing troubled him. He kept canting his ear with eternal
+expectation of hearing the chorus of many hoofs swinging toward him out
+of the darkness. After all, it was not a simple thing to put Bill Dozier
+off the trail. When a horse neighed in one of the corrals, Andy started
+violently and laid his fingertips on his revolver butt.</p>
+
+<p>That false alarm determined him to make his attempt without further
+waste of time. He swung from the stirrups and went lightly up the front
+steps. His footfall was a feathery thing that carried him like a shadow
+to the door. It yielded at once under his hand, and, stepping through,
+he found himself lost in utter blackness.</p>
+
+<p>He closed the door, taking care that the spring did not make the lock
+click, and then stood perfectly motionless, listening, probing the dark.</p>
+
+<p>After a time the shadows gave way before his eyes, and he could make out
+that he was in a hall with lofty ceiling. Something wound down from
+above at a little distance, and he made out that this was the stairway.
+Obviously the bedrooms would be in the second story.</p>
+
+<p>Andy began the ascent.</p>
+
+<p>He had occasion to bless the thick carpet before he was at the head of
+the stairs; he could have run up if he had wished, and never have made a
+sound. At the edge of the second hall he paused again. The sense of
+people surrounded him. Then directly behind him a man cleared his
+throat. As though a great hand had seized his shoulder and wrenched him
+down, Andy whirled and dropped to his knees, the revolver in his hand
+pointing uneasily here and there like the head of a snake laboring to
+find its enemy.</p>
+
+<p>But there was nothing in the hall. The voice became a murmur, and then
+Andy knew that it had been some man speaking in his sleep.</p>
+
+<p>At least that room was not the room of the girl. Or was <!-- Page 28 --><a name="Page_28"></a>she, perhaps,
+married? Weak and sick, Andy rested his hand against the wall and waited
+for his brain to clear. &quot;She won't be married,&quot; he whispered to himself
+in the darkness.</p>
+
+<p>But of all those doors up and down the hall, which would be hers? There
+was no reasoning which could help him in the midst of that puzzle. He
+walked to what he judged to be the middle of the hall, turned to his
+right, and opened the first door. A hinge creaked, but it was no louder
+than the rustle of silk against silk.</p>
+
+<p>There were two windows in that room, and each was gray with the dawn,
+but in the room itself the blackness was unrelieved. There was the one
+dim stretch of white, which was the covering of the bed; the furniture,
+the chairs, and the table were half merged with the shadows around them.
+Andy slipped across the floor, evaded a chair by instinct rather than by
+sight, and leaned over the bed. It was a man, as he could tell by the
+heavy breathing; yet he leaned closer in a vain effort to make surer by
+the use of his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Then something changed in the face of the man in the bed. It was an
+indescribable change, but Andrew knew that the man had opened his eyes.
+Before he could straighten or stir, hands were thrown up. One struck at
+his face, and the fingers were stiff; one arm was cast over his
+shoulders, and Andy heard the intake of breath which precedes a shriek.
+Not a long interval&mdash;no more, say, than the space required for the lash
+of a snapping blacksnake to flick back on itself&mdash;but in that interim
+the hands of Andy were buried in the throat of his victim.</p>
+
+<p>His fingers, accustomed to the sway and quiver of eight-pound hammers
+and fourteen-pound sledges, sank through the flesh and found the
+windpipe. And the hands of the other grappled at his wrists, smashed
+into his face. Andy could have laughed at the effort. He jammed the shin
+of his right leg just above the knees of the other, and at once the
+writhing body was quiet. With all of his blood <!-- Page 29 --><a name="Page_29"></a>turned to ice, Andy
+found, what he had discovered when he faced the crowd in Martindale,
+that his nerves did not jump and that his heart, instead of trembling,
+merely beat with greater pulses. Fear cleared his brain; it sent a
+tremendous nervous power thrilling in his wrists and elbows. All the
+while he was watching mercilessly for the cessation of the struggles.
+And when the wrenching at his forearms ceased he instantly relaxed
+his grip.</p>
+
+<p>For a time there was a harsh sound filling the room, the rough intake of
+the man's breath; he was for the time being paralyzed and incapable of
+any effort except the effort to fill his lungs. By the glint of the
+metal work about the bits Andy made out two bridles hanging on the wall
+near the bed. Taking them down, he worked swiftly. As soon as the fellow
+on the bed would have his breath he would scream. Yet the time sufficed
+Andy; he had his knife out, flicked the blade open, and cut off the long
+reins of the bridles. Then he went back to the bed and shoved the cold
+muzzle of his revolver into the throat of the other.</p>
+
+<p>There was a tremor through the whole body of the man, and Andy knew that
+at that moment the senses of his victim had cleared.</p>
+
+<p>He leaned close to the ear of the man and whispered: &quot;Don't make no loud
+talk, partner. Keep cool and steady. I don't aim to hurt you unless you
+play the fool.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Instantly the man answered in a similar whisper, though it was broken
+with panting: &quot;Get that coat of mine out the closet. There&mdash;the door is
+open. You'll find my wallet in the inside pocket and about all you can
+want will be in it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's the way,&quot; reassured Andy. &quot;Keep your head and use sense. But it
+isn't the coin I want. You've got a red-headed girl in this house.
+Where's her room?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His hand which held the revolver was resting on the breast of the man,
+and he felt the heart of the other leap. Then there was a current of
+curses, a swift hissing of invective. <!-- Page 30 --><a name="Page_30"></a>And suddenly it came over Andy
+that since he had killed one man, as he thought, the penalty would be no
+greater if he killed ten. All at once the life of this prostrate fellow
+on the bed was nothing to him.</p>
+
+<p>When he cut into that profanity he meant what he said. &quot;Partner, I've
+got a pull on this trigger. There's a slug in this gun just trembling to
+get at you. And I tell you honest, friend, I'd as soon drill you as turn
+around. Now tell me where that girl's room is?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Anne Withero?&quot; Only his breathing was heard for a moment. Then: &quot;Two
+doors down, on this side of the hall. If you lay a hand on her I'll
+live to&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Partner, so help me heaven, I wouldn't touch a lock of her hair. Now
+lie easy while I make sure of you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And he promptly trussed the other in the bridle reins. Out of a
+pillowcase folded hard he made a gag and tied it into the mouth of the
+man. Then he ran his hands over the straps; they were drawn taut.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you make any noise,&quot; he warned the other, &quot;I'll come back to find
+out why. S'long.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 7</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>Every moment was bringing on the dawn more swiftly, and the eyes of Andy
+were growing more accustomed to the gloom in the house. He found the
+door of the girl's room at once. When he entered he had only to pause a
+moment before he had all the details clearly in mind. Other senses than
+that of sight informed him in her room. There was in the gray gloom a
+touch of fragrance such as blows out of gardens across a road; yet here
+the air was perfectly quiet and chill. The dawn advanced. <!-- Page 31 --><a name="Page_31"></a>But all that
+he could make out was a faint touch of color againt the pillow&mdash;and that
+would be her hair. Then with astonishing clearness he saw her hand
+resting against her breast. Andy stood for a moment with his eyes
+closed, a great tenderness falling around him. The hush kept deepening,
+and the sense of the girl drew out to him as if a light were brightening
+about her.</p>
+
+<p>He stepped back to the table against the wall, took the chimney from the
+lamp, and flicked a match along his trousers, for in that way a match
+would make the least noise. Yet to the hair-trigger nerves of Andy the
+spurt and flare of the match was like the explosion of a gun. He lighted
+the lamp, turned down the wick, and replaced the chimney. Then he turned
+as though someone had shouted behind him. He whirled as he had whirled
+in the hall, crouching, and he found himself looking straight into the
+eyes of the girl as she sat up in bed.</p>
+
+<p>Truly he did not see her face at first, but only the fear in it, parting
+her lips and widening her eyes. She did not speak; her only movement was
+to drag up the coverlet of the bed and hold it against the base of
+her throat.</p>
+
+<p>Andy drew off his hat and stepped a little closer. &quot;Do you know me?&quot; he
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>He watched her as she strove to speak, but if her lips stirred they made
+no sound. It tortured him to see her terror, and yet he would not have
+had her change. This crystal pallor or a flushed joy&mdash;in one of the two
+she was most beautiful.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You saw me in Martindale,&quot; he continued. &quot;I am the blacksmith. Do you
+remember?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She nodded, still watching him with those haunted eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I saw you for the split part of a second,&quot; said Andy, &quot;and you stopped
+my heart. I've come to see you for two minutes; I swear I mean you no
+harm. Will you let me have those two minutes for talk?&quot; <!-- Page 32 --><a name="Page_32"></a>Again she
+nodded. But he could see that the terror was being tempered a little in
+her face. She was beginning to think, to wonder. It seemed a natural
+thing for Andy to go forward a pace closer to the bed, but, lest that
+should alarm her, it seemed also natural for him to drop upon one knee.
+It brought the muzzle of the revolver jarringly home against the floor.</p>
+
+<p>The girl heard that sound of metal and it shook her; but it requires a
+very vivid imagination to fear a man upon his knees. And now that she
+could look directly into his face, she saw that he was only a boy, not
+more than two or three years older than herself. For the first time she
+remembered the sooty figure which had stood in the door of the
+blacksmith shop. The white face against the tawny smoke of the shop;
+that had attracted her eyes before. It was the same white face now, but
+subtly changed. A force exuded from him; indeed, he seemed neither
+young nor old.</p>
+
+<p>She heard him speaking in a voice not louder than a whisper, rapid,
+distinct.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When you came through the town you waked me up like a whiplash,&quot; he was
+saying. &quot;When you left I kept thinking about you. Then along came a
+trouble. I killed a man. A posse started after me. It's on my heels, but
+I had to see you again. Do you understand?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A ghost of color was going up her throat, staining her cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I had to see you,&quot; he repeated. &quot;It's my last chance. Tomorrow they
+may get me. Two hours from now they may have me salted away with lead.
+But before I kick out I had to have one more look at you. So I swung out
+of my road and came straight to this house. I came up the stairs. I went
+into a room down the hall and made a man tell me where to find you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a flash in the eyes of the girl like the wink of sun on a bit
+of quartz on a far-away hillside, but it cut into <!-- Page 33 --><a name="Page_33"></a>the speech of Andrew
+Lanning. &quot;He told you where to find me?&quot; she asked in a voice no louder
+than the swift, low voice of Andy. But what a world of scorn!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He had a gun shoved into the hollow of his throat,&quot; said Andy. &quot;He had
+to tell&mdash;two doors down the hall&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was Charlie!&quot; said the girl softly. She seemed to forget her fear.
+Her head raised as she looked at Andy. &quot;The other man&mdash;the one
+you&mdash;why&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The man I killed doesn't matter,&quot; said Andy. &quot;Nothing matters except
+that I've got this minute here with you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But where will you go? How will you escape?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll go to death, I guess,&quot; said Andy quietly. &quot;But I'll have a grin
+for Satan when he lets me in. I've beat 'em, even if they catch me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The coverlet dropped from her breast; her hand was suspended with stiff
+fingers. There had been a sound as of someone stumbling on the stairway,
+the unmistakable slip of a heel and the recovery; then no more sound.
+Andy was on his feet. She saw his face whiten, and then there was a
+glitter in his eyes, and she knew that the danger was nothing to him.
+But Anne Withero whipped out of her bed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did you hear?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I tied and gagged him,&quot; said Andy, &quot;but he's broken loose, and now he's
+raising the house on the quiet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For an instant they stood listening, staring at each other.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They&mdash;they're coming up the hall,&quot; whispered the girl. &quot;Listen!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was no louder than a whisper from without&mdash;the creak of a board.
+Andrew Lanning slipped to the door and turned the key in the lock. When
+he rejoined her in the middle of the room he gave her the key.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let 'em in if you want to,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>But the girl caught his arm, whispering: &quot;You can get out that window
+onto the top of the roof below, then a drop to the ground. But hurry
+before they think to guard that way!&quot; &quot;<!-- Page 34 --><a name="Page_34"></a>Anne!&quot; called a voice suddenly
+from the hall.</p>
+
+<p>Andy threw up the window, and, turning toward the door, he laughed his
+defiance and his joy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hurry!&quot; she was demanding. A great blow fell on the door of her room,
+and at once there was shouting in the hall: &quot;Pete, run outside and watch
+the window!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will you go?&quot; cried the girl desperately.</p>
+
+<p>He turned toward the window. He turned back like a flash and swept her
+close to him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you fear me?&quot; he whispered.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; said the girl.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will you remember me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Forever!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;God bless you,&quot; said Andy as he leaped through the window. She saw him
+take the slope of the roof with one stride; she heard the thud of his
+feet on the ground below. Then a yell from without, shrill and high
+and sharp.</p>
+
+<p>When the door fell with a crash, and three men were flung into the room,
+Charles Merchant saw her standing in her nightgown by the open window.
+Her head was flung back against the wall, her eyes closed, and one hand
+was pressed across her lips.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's out the window. Down around the other way,&quot; cried Charles
+Merchant.</p>
+
+<p>The stampede swept out of the room. Charles was beside her.</p>
+
+<p>She knew that vaguely, and that he was speaking, but not until he
+touched her shoulder did she hear the words: &quot;Anne, are you
+unhurt&mdash;has&mdash;for heaven's sake speak, Anne. What's happened?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She reached up and put his hand away.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Charles,&quot; she said, &quot;call them back. Don't let them follow him!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are you mad, dear?&quot; he asked. &quot;That murdering&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He found a tigress in front of him. &quot;<!-- Page 35 --><a name="Page_35"></a>If they hurt a hair of his head,
+Charlie, I'm through with you. I'll swear that!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It stunned Charles Merchant. And then he went stumbling from the room.</p>
+
+<p>His cow-punchers were out from the bunk house already; the guests and
+his father were saddling or in the saddle.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come back!&quot; shouted Charles Merchant. &quot;Don't follow him. Come back! No
+guns. He's done no harm.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Two men came around the corner of the house, dragging a limp figure
+between them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is this no harm?&quot; they asked. &quot;Look at Pete, and then talk.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They lowered the tall, limp figure of the man in pajamas to the ground;
+his face was a crimson smear.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is he dead?&quot; asked Charles Merchant.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No move out of him,&quot; they answered.</p>
+
+<p>Other people, most of them on horseback, were pouring back to learn the
+meaning of the strange call from Charles Merchant.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can't tell you what I mean,&quot; he was saying in explanation. &quot;But you,
+dad, I'll be able to tell you. All I can say is that he mustn't be
+followed&mdash;unless Pete here&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The eyes of Pete opportunely opened. He looked hazily about him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is he gone?&quot; asked Pete.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thank the Lord!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did you see him? What's he like?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;About seven feet tall. I saw him jump off the roof of the house. I was
+right under him. Tried to get my gun on him, but he came up like a wild
+cat and went straight at me. Had his fist in my face before I could get
+my finger on the trigger. And then the earth came up and slapped me in
+the face.&quot; &quot;<!-- Page 36 --><a name="Page_36"></a>There he goes!&quot; cried some one.</p>
+
+<p>The sky was now of a brightness not far from day, and, turning east, in
+the direction pointed out, Charles Merchant saw a horseman ride over a
+hilltop, a black form against the coloring horizon. He was moving
+leisurely, keeping his horse at the cattle pony's lope. Presently he
+dipped away out of sight.</p>
+
+<p>John Merchant dropped his hand on the shoulder of his son. &quot;What is it?&quot;
+he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Heaven knows! Not I!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here are more people! What's this? A night of surprise parties?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Six riders came through the trees, rushing their horses, and John
+Merchant saw Bill Dozier's well-known, lanky form in the lead. He
+brought his horse from a dead run to a halt in the space of a single
+jump and a slide. The next moment he was demanding fresh mounts.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Can you give 'em to me, Merchant? But what's all this?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You make your little talk,&quot; said Merchant, &quot;and then I'll make mine.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm after Andy Lanning. He's left a gent more dead than alive back in
+Martindale, and I want him. Can you give me fresh horses for me and my
+boys, Merchant?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But the man wasn't dead? He wasn't dead?&quot; cried the voice of a girl.
+The group opened; Bill Dozier found himself facing a bright-haired girl
+wrapped to the throat in a long coat, with slippers on her feet.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not dead and not alive,&quot; he answered. &quot;Just betwixt and between.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thank God!&quot; whispered the girl. &quot;Thank God!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was only one man in the group who should not have heard that
+whispered phrase, and that man was Charles Merchant. He was standing
+at her side.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><!-- Page 37 --><a name="Page_37"></a>CHAPTER 8</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>It took less than five minutes for the deputy sheriff to mount his men;
+he himself had the pick of the corral, a dusty roan, and, as he drew the
+cinch taut, he turned to find Charles Merchant at his side.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bill,&quot; said the young fellow, &quot;what sort of a man is this Lanning?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's been a covered card, partner,&quot; said Bill Dozier. &quot;He's been a
+covered card that seemed pretty good. Now he's in the game, and he looks
+like the rest of the Lannings&mdash;a good lump of daring and defiance. Why
+d'you ask?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are you keen to get him, Bill?&quot; continued Charlie Merchant eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I could stand it. Again, why?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You'd like a little gun play with that fellow?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wouldn't complain none.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah? One more thing. Could you use a bit of ready cash?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I ain't pressed,&quot; said Bill Dozier. &quot;On the other hand, I ain't of a
+savin' nature.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then he added: &quot;Get it out, Charlie. I think I follow your drift. And
+you can go as far as you like.&quot; He put out his jaw in an ugly way as
+he said it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It would be worth a lot to me to have this cur done for, Bill. You
+understand?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My time's short. Talk terms, Charlie.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A thousand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The price of a fair hoss.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Two thousand, old man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hoss and trimmin's.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Three thousand.&quot; &quot;<!-- Page 38 --><a name="Page_38"></a>Charlie, you seem to forget that we're talkin' about
+a man and a gun.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bill, it's worth five thousand to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's turkey. Let me have your hand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They shook hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if you kill the horses,&quot; said Charles Merchant, &quot;you won't hurt my
+feelings. But get him!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've got nothing much on him,&quot; said Bill Dozier, &quot;but some fools resist
+arrest.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He smiled in a manner that made the other shudder. And a moment later
+the deputy led his men out on the trail.</p>
+
+<p>They were a weary lot by this time, but they had beneath the belt
+several shots of the Merchant whisky which Charles had distributed. And
+they had that still greater stimulus&mdash;fresh horses running smooth and
+strong beneath them. Another thing had changed. They saw their leader,
+Bill Dozier, working at his revolver and his rifle as he rode, looking
+to the charges, trying the pressure of the triggers, getting the balance
+of the weapons with a peculiar anxiety, and they knew, without a word
+being spoken, that there was small chance of that trail ending at
+anything short of a red mark in the dust.</p>
+
+<p>It made some of them shrug their shoulders, but here again it was proved
+that Bill Dozier knew the men of Martindale, and had picked his posse
+well. They were the common, hard-working variety of cow-puncher, and
+presently the word went among them from the man riding nearest to Bill
+that if young Lanning were taken it would be worth a hundred dollars to
+each of them. Two months' pay for two days' work. That was fair enough.
+They also began to look to their guns. It was not that a single one of
+them could have been bought for a mankilling at that or any other price,
+perhaps, but this was simply a bonus to carry them along toward what
+they considered an honest duty.</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, it was a different crew that rode over the <!-- Page 39 --><a name="Page_39"></a>hills away
+from the Merchant place. They had begun for the sake of the excitement.
+Now they were working carefully, riding with less abandon, jockeying
+their horses, for each man was laboring to be in on the kill.</p>
+
+<p>They had against them a good horse and a stanch horseman. Never had the
+pinto dodged his share of honest running, and this day was no exception.
+He gave himself whole-heartedly to his task, and he stretched the legs
+of the ponies behind him. Yet he had a great handicap. He was tough, but
+the ranch horses of John Merchant came out from a night of rest. Their
+legs were full of running. And the pinto, for all his courage, could not
+meet that handicap and beat it.</p>
+
+<p>That truth slowly sank in upon the mind of the fugitive as he put the
+game little cattle pony into his best stride. He tried the pinto in the
+level going. He tried him in the rough. And in both conditions the posse
+gained slowly and steadily, until it became apparent to Andrew Lanning
+that the deputy held him in the hollow of his hand, and in half an hour
+of stiff galloping could run his quarry into the ground whenever
+he chose.</p>
+
+<p>Andy turned in the saddle and grinned back at the followers. He could
+distinguish Bill Dozier most distinctly. The broad brim of Bill's hat
+was blown up stiffly. And the sun glinted now and again on those
+melancholy mustaches of his. Andy was puzzled. Bill had horses which
+could outrun the fugitive, and why did he not use them?</p>
+
+<p>Almost at once Andy received his answer.</p>
+
+<p>The deputy sheriff sent his horse into a hard run, and then brought him
+suddenly to a standstill. Looking back, Andy saw a rifle pitch to the
+shoulder of the deputy. It was a flashing line of light which focused
+suddenly in a single, glinting dot. That instant something hummed evilly
+beside the ear of Andy. A moment later the report came barking and
+echoing in his ear with the little metallic ring in it which <!-- Page 40 --><a name="Page_40"></a>tells of
+the shiver of a gun barrel.</p>
+
+<p>That was the beginning of a running fusillade. Technically these were
+shots fired to warn the fugitive that he was wanted by the law, and to
+tell him that if he did not halt he would be shot at to be killed. But
+the deputy did not waste warnings. He began to shoot to kill. And so did
+the rest of the posse. They saw the deputy's plan at once, and then
+grinned at it. If they rode down in a mob the boy would no doubt
+surrender. But if they goaded him in this manner from a distance he
+would probably attempt to return the fire. And if he fired one shot in
+reply, unwritten law and strong public opinion would be on the side of
+Bill Dozier in killing this criminal without quarter. In a word, the
+whisky and the little promise of money were each taking effect on
+the posse.</p>
+
+<p>They spurted ahead in pairs, halted, and delivered their fire; then the
+next pair spurted ahead and fired. Every moment or so two bullets winged
+through the air nearer and nearer Andy. It was really a wonder that he
+was not cleanly drilled by a bullet long before that fusillade had
+continued for ten minutes. But it is no easy thing to hit a man on a
+galloping horse when one sits on the back of another horse, and that
+horse heaving from a hard run. Moreover, Andy watched, and when the
+pairs halted he made the pinto weave.</p>
+
+<p>At the first bullet he felt his heart come into his throat. At the
+second he merely raised his head. At the next he smiled, and thereafter
+he greeted each volley with a yell and with a wave of his hat. It was
+like dancing, but greater fun. The cold, still terror was in his heart
+every moment, but yet he felt like laughing, and when the posse heard
+him their own hearts went cold.</p>
+
+<p>It disturbed their aim. They began to snarl at each other, and they also
+pressed their horses closer and closer before they even attempted to
+fire. <!-- Page 41 --><a name="Page_41"></a>And the result was that Andy, waving his hat, felt it twitch
+sharply in his hand, and then he saw a neat little hole clipped out of
+the very edge of the brim. It was a pretty trick to see, until Andy
+remembered that the thing which had nicked that hole would also cut its
+way through him, body and bone. He leaned over the saddle and spurred
+the pinto into his racing gait.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I nicked him!&quot; yelled the deputy. &quot;Come on, boys! Close in!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But within five minutes of racing, Andy drew the pinto to a sudden halt
+and raised his rifle. The posse laughed. They had been shooting for some
+time, and always for a distance even less than Andy's; yet not one of
+their bullets had gone home. So they waved their hats recklessly and
+continued to ride to be in at the death. And every one knew that the end
+of the trail was not far off when the fugitive had once begun to turn
+at bay.</p>
+
+<p>Andy knew it as well as the rest, and his hand shook like a nervous
+girl's, while the rifle barrel tilted up and up, the blue barrel
+shimmering wickedly. In a frenzy of eagerness he tried to line up the
+sights. It was in vain. The circle through which he squinted wobbled
+crazily. He saw two of the pursuers spurt ahead, take their posts, raise
+their rifles for a fire which would at least disturb his. For the first
+time they had a stationary target.</p>
+
+<p>And then, by chance, the circle of Andy's sight embraced the body of a
+horseman. Instantly the left arm, stretching out to support his rifle,
+became a rock; the forefinger of his right hand was as steady as the
+trigger it pressed. It was like shooting at a target. He found himself
+breathing easily.</p>
+
+<p>It was very strange. Find a man with his sights? He could follow his
+target as though a magnetic power attracted his rifle. The weapon seemed
+to have a volition of its own. It drifted along with the canter of Bill
+Dozier. With incredible precision the little finger of iron inside the
+circle dwelt in <!-- Page 42 --><a name="Page_42"></a>turn on the hat of Bill Dozier, on his sandy mustaches,
+on his fluttering shirt. And Andy knew that he had the life of a man
+under the command of his forefinger.</p>
+
+<p>And why not? He had killed one. Why not a hundred?</p>
+
+<p>The punishment would be no greater. And to tempt him there was this new
+mystery, this knowledge that he could not miss. It had been vaguely
+present in his mind when he faced the crowd at Martindale, he remembered
+now. And the same merciless coldness had been in his hand when he
+pressed his gun into the throat of Charles Merchant.</p>
+
+<p>He turned his eyes and looked down the guns of the two men who had
+halted. Then, hardly looking at his target, he snapped his rifle back to
+his shoulder and fired. He saw Bill Dozier throw up his hands, saw his
+head rock stupidly back and forth, and then the long figure toppled to
+one side. One of the posse rushed alongside to catch his leader, but he
+missed, and Bill, slumping to the ground, was trampled underfoot.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 9</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>At the same time the rifles of the two men of the posse rang, but they
+must have seen the fall of their leader, for the shots went wild, and
+Andy Lanning took off his hat and waved to them. But he did not flee
+again. He sat in his saddle with the long rifle balanced across the
+pommel while two thoughts went through his mind. One was to stay there
+and watch. The other was to slip the rifle back into the holster and
+with drawn revolver charge the five remaining members of the posse.
+These were now gathering hastily about Bill Dozier. But Andy knew their
+concern was in vain. He knew where that bullet had driven home, and Bill
+<!-- Page 43 --><a name="Page_43"></a>Dozier would never ride again.</p>
+
+<p>One by one he picked up those five figures with his eyes, fighting
+temptation. He knew that he could not miss if he fired again. In five
+shots he knew that he could drop as many men, and within him there was a
+perfect consciousness that they would not hit him when they returned
+the fire.</p>
+
+<p>He was not filled with exulting courage. He was cold with fear. But it
+was the sort of fear which makes a man want to fling himself from a
+great height. But, sitting there calmly in the saddle, he saw a strange
+thing&mdash;the five men raising their dead leader and turning back toward
+the direction from which they had come. Not once did they look toward
+the form of Andy Lanning. They knew what he could not know, that the
+gate of the law had been open to this man as a retreat, but the bullet
+which struck down Bill Dozier had closed the gate and thrust him out
+from mercy. He was an outlaw, a leper now. Any one who shared his
+society from this moment on would fall under the heavy hand of the law.</p>
+
+<p>But as for running him into the ground, they had lost their appetite for
+such fighting. They had kept up a long running fight and gained nothing;
+but a single shot from the fugitive had produced this result. They
+turned now in silence and went back, very much as dogs turn and tuck
+their tails between their legs when the wolf, which they have chased
+away from the precincts of the ranch house, feels himself once more safe
+from the hand of man and whirls with a flash of teeth. The sun gleamed
+on the barrel of Andy Lanning's rifle, and these men rode back in
+silence, feeling that they had witnessed one of those prodigies which
+were becoming fewer and fewer around Martindale&mdash;the birth of a
+desperado.</p>
+
+<p>Andrew watched them skulking off with the body of Bill Dozier held
+upright by a man on either side of the horse. <!-- Page 44 --><a name="Page_44"></a>He watched them draw off
+across the hills, still with that nervous, almost irresistible impulse
+to raise one wild, long cry and spur after them, shooting swift and
+straight over the head of the pinto. But he did not move, and now they
+dropped out of sight. And then, looking about him, Andrew Lanning felt
+how vast were those hills, how wide they stretched, and how small he
+stood among them. He was utterly alone. There was nothing but the hills
+and a sky growing pale with heat and the patches of olive-gray sagebrush
+in the distance.</p>
+
+<p>A great melancholy dropped upon Andy. He felt a childish weakness;
+dropping his elbows upon the pommel of the saddle, he buried his face in
+his hands. In that moment he needed desperately something to which he
+could appeal for comfort.</p>
+
+<p>The weakness passed slowly.</p>
+
+<p>He dismounted and looked his horse over carefully. The pinto had many
+good points. He had ample girth of chest at the cinches, where lung
+capacity is best measured. He had rather short forelegs, which promised
+weight-carrying power and some endurance, and he had a fine pair of
+sloping shoulders. But his croup sloped down too much, and he had a
+short neck. Andy knew perfectly well that no horse with a short neck can
+run fast for any distance. He had chosen the pinto for endurance, and
+endurance he undoubtedly had; but he would need a horse which could put
+him out of short-shooting distance, and do it quickly.</p>
+
+<p>There were no illusions in the mind of Andrew Lanning about what lay
+before him. Uncle Jasper had told him too many tales of his own
+experiences on the trail in enemy country.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There's three things,&quot; the old man had often said, &quot;that a man needs
+when he's in trouble: a gun that's smooth as silk, a hoss full of
+running, and a friend.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For the gun Andy had his Colt in the holster, and he knew <!-- Page 45 --><a name="Page_45"></a>it like his
+own mind. There were newer models and trickier weapons, but none which
+worked so smoothly under the touch of Andy. Thinking of this, he
+produced it from the holster with a flick of his fingers. The sight had
+been filed away. When he was a boy in short trousers he had learned from
+Uncle Jasper the two main articles of a gun fighter's creed&mdash;that a
+revolver must be fired by pointing, not sighting, and that there must be
+nothing about it liable to hang in the holster to delay the draw. The
+great idea was to get the gun on your man with lightning speed, and then
+fire from the hip with merely a sense of direction to guide the bullet.</p>
+
+<p>He had a gun, therefore, and one necessity was his. Sorely he needed a
+horse of quality as few men needed one. And he needed still more a
+friend, a haven in time of crisis, an adviser in difficulties. And
+though Andy knew that it was death to go among men, he knew also that it
+was death to do without these two things.</p>
+
+<p>He believed that there was one chance left to him, and that was to
+outdistance the news of the two killings by riding straight north. There
+he would stop at the first town, in some manner fill his pockets with
+money, and in some manner find both horse and friend.</p>
+
+<p>Andrew Lanning was both simple and credulous; but it must be remembered
+that he had led a sheltered life, comparatively speaking; he had been
+brought up between a blacksmith shop on the one hand and Uncle Jasper on
+the other, and the gaps in his knowledge of men were many and huge. The
+prime necessity now was speed to the northward. So Andy flung himself
+into the saddle and drove his horse north at the jogging, rocking lope
+of the cattle pony.</p>
+
+<p>He was in a shallow basin which luckily pointed in the right direction
+for him. The hills sloped down to it from either side in long fingers,
+with narrow gullies between, but <!-- Page 46 --><a name="Page_46"></a>as Andy passed the first of these
+pointing fingers a new thought came to him.</p>
+
+<p>It might be&mdash;why not?&mdash;that the posse had made only a pretense of
+withdrawing at once with the body of the dead man. Perhaps they had only
+waited until they were out of sight and had then circled swiftly around,
+leaving one man with the body. They might be waiting now at the mouth of
+any of these gullies.</p>
+
+<p>No sooner had the thought come to Andy than he whitened. The pinto had
+been worked hard that morning and all the night before, but now Andy
+sent the spurs home without mercy as he shot up the basin at full speed,
+with his revolver drawn, ready for a snap shot and a drop behind the far
+side of his horse.</p>
+
+<p>For half an hour he rode in this fashion with his heart beating at his
+teeth. And each ca&ntilde;on as he passed was empty, and each had some shrub,
+like a crouching man, to startle him and upraise the revolver. At
+length, with the pinto wheezing from this new effort, he drew back to an
+easier gait. But still he had a companion ceaselessly following like the
+shadow of the horse he rode. It was fear, and it would never leave him.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 10</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>After that forced and early rising, the rest of the house had remained
+awake, but Anne Withero was gifted with an exceptionally strong set of
+nerves. She had gone back to bed and fallen promptly into a pleasant
+sleep. And when she wakened all that happened in the night was filmed
+over and had become dreamlike. <!-- Page 47 --><a name="Page_47"></a>No one disturbed her rest; but when she
+went down to a late breakfast she found Charles Merchant lingering in
+the room. He had questioned her closely, and after a moment of thought
+she told him exactly what had happened, because she was perfectly aware
+that he would not believe a word of it. And she was right. He had sat
+opposite her, drumming his fingers without noise on the table, with a
+smile now and then which was tinged, she thought, with insolence.</p>
+
+<p>Yet he seemed oddly undisturbed. She had expected some jealous outburst,
+some keen questioning of the motives which had made her beg them not to
+pursue this man. But Charles Merchant was only interested in what the
+fellow had said and done when he talked with her. &quot;He was just like a
+man out of a book,&quot; said the girl in conclusion, &quot;and I'll wager that
+he's been raised on romances. He had the face for it, you know&mdash;and the
+wild look!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A blacksmith&mdash;in Martindale&mdash;raised on romances?&quot; Charles had said as
+he fingered his throat, which was patched with black and blue.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A blacksmith&mdash;in Martindale,&quot; she had repeated slowly. And it brought a
+new view of the affair home to her. Now that they knew from Bill Dozier
+that the victim in Martindale had been only injured, and not actually
+killed, the whole matter became rather a farce. It would be an amusing
+tale. But now, as Charles Merchant repeated the words,
+&quot;blacksmith&quot;&mdash;&quot;Martindale,&quot; the new idea shocked her, the new idea of
+Andrew Lanning, for Charles had told her the name.</p>
+
+<p>The new thought stayed with her when she went back to her room after
+breakfast, ostensibly to read, but really to think. Remembering Andrew
+Lanning, she got past the white face and the brilliant black eyes; she
+felt, looking back, that he had shown a restraint which was something
+more than boyish. When he took her in his arms just before <!-- Page 48 --><a name="Page_48"></a>he fled he
+had not kissed her, though, for that matter, she had been perfectly
+ready to let him do it.</p>
+
+<p>That moment kept recurring to her&mdash;the beating on the door, the voices
+in the hall, the shouts, and the arms of Andrew Lanning around her, and
+his tense, desperate face close to hers. It became less dreamlike that
+moment. She began to understand that if she lived to be a hundred, she
+would never find that memory dimmer.</p>
+
+<p>A half-sad, half-happy smile was touching the corners of her mouth, when
+Charles Merchant knocked at her door. She gave herself one moment in
+which to banish the queer pain of knowing that she would never see this
+wild Andrew again, and then she told Charles to come in.</p>
+
+<p>In fact, he was already opening the door. He was calm of face, but she
+guessed an excitement beneath the surface.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've got something to show you,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>A great thought made her sit up in the chair; but she was afraid just
+then to stand up. &quot;I know. The posse has reached that silly boy and
+brought him back. But I don't want to see him again. Handcuffed, and
+all that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The posse is here, at least,&quot; said Charles noncommittally. She was
+finding something new in him. The fact that he could think and hide his
+thoughts from her was indeed very new; for, when she first met him, he
+had seemed all surface, all clean young manhood without a stain.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you want me to see the six brave men again?&quot; she asked, smiling, but
+really she was prying at his mind to get a clew of the truth. &quot;Well,
+I'll come down.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And she went down the stairs with Charles Merchant beside her; he kept
+looking straight ahead, biting his lips, and this made her wonder. She
+began to hum a gay little tune, and the first bar made the man start. So
+she kept on. She was bubbling with apparent good nature when Charles,
+all gravity, opened the door of the living room.</p>
+
+<p>The shades were drawn. The quiet in that room was a <!-- Page 49 --><a name="Page_49"></a>deadly, living
+thing. And then she saw, on the sofa at one side of the place, a human
+form under a sheet.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Charles!&quot; whispered the girl. She put out her hand and touched his
+shoulder, but she could not take her eyes off that ghastly dead thing.
+&quot;They&mdash;they&mdash;he's dead&mdash;Andrew Lanning! Why did you bring me here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Take the cloth from his face,&quot; commanded Charles Merchant, and there
+was something so hard in his voice that she obeyed.</p>
+
+<p>The sheet came away under her touch, and she was looking into the sallow
+face of Bill Dozier. She had remembered him because of the sad
+mustaches, that morning, and his big voice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's what your romantic boy out of a book has done,&quot; said Charles
+Merchant. &quot;Look at his work!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But she dropped the sheet and whirled on him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And they left him&mdash;&quot; she said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Anne,&quot; said he, &quot;are you thinking about the safety of that
+murderer&mdash;now? He's safe, but they'll get him later on; he's as good as
+dead, if that's what you want to know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;God help him!&quot; said the girl.</p>
+
+<p>And going back a pace, she stood in the thick shadow, leaning against
+the wall, with one hand across her lips. It reminded Charles of the
+picture he had seen when he broke into her room after Andrew Lanning had
+escaped. And she looked now, as, then, more beautiful, more wholly to be
+desired than he had ever known her before. Yet he could neither move nor
+speak. He saw her go out of the room. Then, without stopping to replace
+the sheet, he followed.</p>
+
+<p>He had hoped to wipe the last thought of that vagabond blacksmith out of
+her mind with the shock of this horror. Instead, he knew now that he had
+done quite another thing. And in addition he had probably made her
+despise him for taking her to confront such a sight.</p>
+
+<p>All in all, Charles Merchant was exceedingly thoughtful <!-- Page 50 --><a name="Page_50"></a>as he closed
+the door and stepped into the hall. He ran up the stairs to her room.
+The door was closed. There was no answer to his knock, and by trying the
+knob he found that she had locked herself in. And the next moment he
+could hear her sobbing. He stood for a moment more, listening, and
+wishing Andrew Lanning dead with all his heart.</p>
+
+<p>Then he went down to the garage, climbed into his car, and burned up the
+road between his place and that of Hal Dozier. There was very little
+similarity between the two brothers. Bill had been tall and lean; Hal
+was compact and solid, and he had the fighting agility of a starved
+coyote. He had a smooth-shaven face as well, and a clear gray eye, which
+was known wherever men gathered in the mountain desert. There was no
+news to give him. A telephone message had already told him of the death
+of Bill Dozier.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But,&quot; said Charles Merchant, &quot;there's one thing I can do. I can set you
+free to run down this Lanning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're needed on your ranch, Hal; but I want you to let me stand the
+expenses of this trip. Take your time, make sure of him, and run him
+into the ground.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My friend,&quot; said Hal Dozier, &quot;you turn a pleasure into a real party.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Charles Merchant left, knowing that he had signed the death warrant
+of young Lanning. In all the history of the mountain desert there was a
+tale of only one man who had escaped, once Hal Dozier took his trail,
+and that man had blown out his own brains.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><!-- Page 51 --><a name="Page_51"></a>CHAPTER 11</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>Far away in the western sky Andy Lanning saw a black dot that moved in
+wide circles and came up across the heavens slowly, and he knew it was a
+buzzard that scented carrion and was coming up the wind toward that
+scent. He had seen them many a time before on their gruesome trails, and
+the picture which he carried was not a pleasant one.</p>
+
+<p>But now the picture that drifted through his mind was still more
+horrible. It was a human body lying face downward in the sand with the
+wind ruffling in the hair and the hat rolled a few paces off and the gun
+close to the outstretched hand. He knew from Uncle Jasper that no matter
+how far the trail led, or how many years it was ridden, the end of the
+outlaw was always the same&mdash;death and the body left to the buzzards. Or
+else, in some barroom, a footfall from behind and a bullet through
+the back.</p>
+
+<p>The flesh of Andy crawled. It was not possible for him to relax in
+vigilance for a moment, lest danger come upon him when he least expected
+it. Perhaps, in some open space like this. He went on until the sun was
+low in the west and all the sky was rimmed with color.</p>
+
+<p>Dusk had come over the hills in a rush, when he saw a house half lost in
+the shadows. It was a narrow-fronted, two-storied, unpainted, lonely
+place, without sign of a porch. Here, where there was no vestige of a
+town near, and where there was no telephone, the news of the deaths of
+Bill Dozier and Buck Heath could not have come. Andy accepted the house
+as a blessing and went straight toward it.</p>
+
+<p>But the days of carelessness were over for Andy, and he would never
+again approach a house without searching it like a human face. He
+studied this shack as he came closer. <!-- Page 52 --><a name="Page_52"></a>If there were people in the
+building they did not choose to show a light.</p>
+
+<p>Andy went around to the rear of the house, where there was a low shed
+beside the corral, half tumbled down; but in the corral were five or six
+fine horses&mdash;wild fellows with bright eyes and the long necks of speed.
+Andy looked upon them wistfully. Not one of them but was worth the price
+of three of the pinto; but as for money there was not twenty dollars in
+the pocket of Andy.</p>
+
+<p>Stripping the saddle from the pinto, he put it under the shed and left
+the mustang to feed and find water in the small pasture. Then he went
+with the bridle, that immemorial sign of one who seeks hospitality in
+the West, toward the house. He was met halfway by a tall, strong man of
+middle age or more. There was no hat on his head, which was covered with
+a shock of brown hair much younger than the face beneath it. He beheld
+Andy without enthusiasm.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You figure on layin' over here for the night, stranger?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's it,&quot; said Andy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll tell you how it is,&quot; said the big man in the tone of one who is
+willing to argue a point. &quot;We ain't got a very big house&mdash;you see
+it&mdash;and it's pretty well filled right now. If you was to slope over the
+hills there, you'd find Gainorville inside of ten miles.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Andy explained that he was at the end of a hard ride. &quot;Ten more miles
+would kill the pinto,&quot; he said. &quot;But if you don't mind, I'll have a bit
+of chow and then turn in out there in the shed. That won't crowd you in
+your sleeping quarters, and it'll be fine for me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The big man opened his mouth to say something more, then turned on his
+heel.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I guess we can fix you up,&quot; he said. &quot;Come on along.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At another time Andy would have lost a hand rather than accept such
+churlish hospitality, but he was in no position <!-- Page 53 --><a name="Page_53"></a>to choose. The pain of
+hunger was like a voice speaking in him.</p>
+
+<p>It was a four-room house; the rooms on the ground floor were the
+kitchen, where Andy cooked his own supper of bacon and coffee and
+flapjacks, and the combination living room, dining room, and, from the
+bunk covered with blankets on one side, bedroom. Upstairs there must
+have been two more rooms of the same size.</p>
+
+<p>Seated about a little kitchen table in the front room, Andy found three
+men playing an interrupted game of blackjack, which was resumed when the
+big fellow took his place before his hand. The three gave Andy a look
+and a grunt, but otherwise they paid no attention to him. And if they
+had consulted him he could have asked for no greater favor. Yet he had
+an odd hunger about seeing them. They were the last men in many a month,
+perhaps, whom he could permit to see him without a fear. He brought his
+supper into the living room and put his cup of coffee on the floor
+beside him. While he ate he watched them.</p>
+
+<p>They were, all in all, the least prepossessing group he had ever seen.
+The man who had brought him in was far from well favored, but he was
+handsome compared with the others. Opposite him sat a tall fellow very
+erect and stiff in his chair. A candle had recently been lighted, and it
+stood on the table near this man. It showed a wan face of excessive
+leanness. His eyes were deep under bony brows, and they alone of the
+features showed any expression as the game progressed, turning now and
+again to the other faces with glances that burned; he was winning
+steadily. A red-headed man was on his left, with his back to Andy; but
+now and again he turned, and Andy saw a heavy jowl and a skin blotched
+with great, rusty freckles. His shoulders over-flowed the back of his
+chair, which creaked whenever he moved. <!-- Page 54 --><a name="Page_54"></a>The man who faced the redhead
+was as light as his companion was ponderous. His voice was gentle, his
+eyes large and soft, and his profile was exceedingly handsome. But in
+the full view Andy saw nothing except a grisly, purple scar that twisted
+down beneath the right eye of the man. It drew down the lower lid of
+that eye, and it pulled the mouth of the man a bit awry, so that he
+seemed to be smiling in a smug, half-apologetic manner. In spite of his
+youth he was unquestionably the dominant spirit here. Once or twice the
+others lifted their voices in argument, and a single word from him cut
+them short. And when he raised his head, now and again, to look at Andy,
+it gave the latter a feeling that his secret was read and all his
+past known.</p>
+
+<p>These strange fellows had not asked his name, and neither had they
+introduced themselves, but from their table talk he gathered that the
+redhead was named Jeff, the funereal man with the bony face was Larry,
+the brown-haired one was Joe, and he of the scar and the smile was
+Henry. It occurred to Andy as odd that such rough boon companions had
+not shortened that name for convenience.</p>
+
+<p>They played with the most intense concentration. As the night deepened
+and the windows became black slabs Joe brought another candle and
+reenforced this light by hanging a lantern from a nail on the wall. This
+illuminated the entire room, but in a partial and dismal manner. The
+game went on. They were playing for high stakes; Andrew Lanning had
+never seen so much cash assembled at one time. They had stacks of
+unmistakable yellow gold before them&mdash;actually stacks. The winner was
+Larry. That skull-faced gentleman was fairly barricaded behind heaps of
+money. Andy estimated swiftly that there must be well over two thousand
+dollars in those stacks.</p>
+
+<p>He finished his supper, and, having taken the tin cup and plate out into
+the next room and cleaned them, he had no <!-- Page 55 --><a name="Page_55"></a>sooner come back to the door,
+on the verge of bidding them good night, then Henry invited him to sit
+down and take a hand.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 12</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>He had never studied any men as he was watching these men at cards.
+Andrew Lanning had spent most of his life quite indifferent to the
+people around him, but now it was necessary to make quick and sure
+judgments. He had to read unreadable faces. He had to guess motives. He
+had to sense the coming of danger before it showed its face. And,
+watching them with close intentness, he understood that at least three
+of them were cheating at every opportunity. Henry, alone, was playing a
+square game; as for the heavy winner, Larry, Andrew had reason to
+believe that he was adroitly palming an ace now and then&mdash;luck ran too
+consistently his way. For his own part, he was no card expert, and he
+smiled as Henry made his offer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've got eleven dollars and fifty cents in my pocket,&quot; Andrew said
+frankly. &quot;I won't sit in at that game.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then the game is three-handed,&quot; said Henry as he got up from his chair.
+&quot;I've fed you boys enough,&quot; he continued in his soft voice. &quot;I know a
+three-handed game is no good, but I'm through. Unless you'll try a round
+or two with 'em, stranger? They've made enough money. Maybe they'll play
+for silver for the fun of it, eh, boys?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was no enthusiastic assent. The three looked gravely at a victim
+with eleven dollars and fifty cents, the chair of Big Jeff creaking
+noisily as he turned. &quot;Sit in,&quot; said Jeff. He made a brief gesture, like
+one wiping an obstacle out of the way. &quot;<!-- Page 56 --><a name="Page_56"></a>Alright,&quot; nodded Andy, for the
+thing began to excite him. He turned to Henry. &quot;Suppose you deal
+for us?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The scar on Henry's face changed color, and his habitual smile
+broadened. &quot;Well!&quot; exclaimed Larry. &quot;Maybe the gent don't like the way
+we been runnin' this game in other ways. Maybe he's got a few more
+suggestions to make, sittin' in? I like to be obligin'.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He grinned, and the effect was ghastly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thanks,&quot; said Andy. &quot;That lets me out as far as suggestions go.&quot; He
+paused with his hand on the back of the chair, and something told him
+that Larry would as soon run a knife into him as take a drink of water.
+The eyes burned up at him out of the shadow of the brows, but Andy,
+though his heart leaped, made himself meet the stare. Suddenly it
+wavered, and only then would Andy sit down. Henry had drawn up
+another chair.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That idea looks good to me,&quot; he said. &quot;I think I shall deal.&quot; And
+forthwith, as one who may not be resisted, he swept up the cards and
+began to shuffle.</p>
+
+<p>The others at once lost interest. Each of them nonchalantly produced
+silver, and they began to play negligently, careless of their stakes.</p>
+
+<p>But to Andy, who had only played for money half a dozen times before,
+this was desperately earnest. He kept to a conservative game, and slowly
+but surely he saw his silver being converted into gold. Only Larry
+noticed his gains&mdash;the others were indifferent to it, but the
+skull-faced man tightened his lips as he saw. Suddenly he began betting
+in gold, ten dollars for each card he drew. The others were out of that
+hand. Andy, breathless, for he had an ace down, saw a three and a two
+fall&mdash;took the long chance, and, with the luck behind him, watched a
+five-spot flutter down to join his draw. Yet Larry, taking the same
+draw, was not busted. He had a pair of deuces and a four. There he
+stuck, and it stood to reason that he could not win. Yet he bet
+<!-- Page 57 --><a name="Page_57"></a>recklessly, raising Andy twice, until the latter had no more money on
+the table to call a higher bet. The showdown revealed an ace under cover
+for Larry also. Now he leaned across the table, smiling at Andrew.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I like the hand you show,&quot; said Larry, &quot;but I don't like your face
+behind it, my friend.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His smile went out; his hand jerked back; and then the lean, small hand
+of Henry shot out and fastened on the tall man's wrist. &quot;You skunk!&quot;
+said Henry. &quot;D'you want to get the kid for that beggarly mess? Bah!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Andy, colorless, his blood cold, brushed aside the arm of the
+intercessor.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Partner,&quot; he said, leaning a little forward in turn, and thereby making
+his holster swing clear of the seat of his chair, &quot;partner, I don't mind
+your words, but I don't like the way you say 'em.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When he began to speak his voice was shaken; before he had finished, his
+tones rang, and he felt once more that overwhelming desire which was
+like the impulse to fling himself from a height. He had felt it before,
+when he watched the posse retreat with the body of Bill Dozier. He felt
+it now, a vast hunger, an almost blinding eagerness to see Larry make an
+incriminating move with his bony, hovering right hand. The bright eyes
+burned at him for a moment longer out of the shadow. Then, again, they
+wavered, and turned away.</p>
+
+<p>Andy knew that the fellow had no more stomach for a fight. Shame might
+have made him go through with the thing he started, however, had not
+Henry cut in again and given Larry a chance to withdraw gracefully.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The kid's called your bluff, Larry,&quot; he said. &quot;And the rest of us don't
+need to see you pull any target practice. Shake hands with the kid, will
+you, and tell him you were joking!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Larry settled back in his chair with a grunt, and Henry, <!-- Page 58 --><a name="Page_58"></a>without a
+word, tipped back in his chair and kicked the table. Andy, beside him,
+saw the move start, and he had just time to scoop his own winnings,
+including that last rich bet, off the table top and into his pocket. As
+for the rest of the coin, it slid with a noisy jangle to the floor, and
+it turned the other three men into scrambling madmen. They scratched and
+clawed at the money, cursing volubly, and Andy, stepping back out of the
+fracas, saw the scar-faced man watching with a smile of contempt. There
+was a snarl; Jeff had Joe by the throat, and Joe was reaching for his
+gun. Henry moved forward to interfere once more, but this time he was
+not needed. A clear whistling sounded outside the house, and a moment
+later the door was kicked open. A man came in with his saddle on
+his hip.</p>
+
+<p>His appearance converted the threatening fight into a scene of jovial
+good nature. The money was swept up at random, as though none of them
+had the slightest care what became of it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Havin' one of your little parties, eh?&quot; said the stranger. &quot;What
+started it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He did, Scottie,&quot; answered Larry, and, stretching out an arm of
+enormous length, he pointed at Andrew.</p>
+
+<p>Again it required the intervention of Henry to explain matters, and
+Scottie, with his hands on his hips, turned and surveyed Andrew with
+considering eyes. He was much different from the rest. Whereas, they had
+one and all a peculiarly unhealthy effect upon Andy, this newcomer was a
+cheery fellow, with an eye as clear as crystal, and color in his tanned
+cheeks. He had one of those long faces which invariably imply
+shrewdness, and he canted his head to one side while he watched Andy.
+&quot;You're him that put the pinto in the corral, I guess?&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>Andy nodded.</p>
+
+<p>There was no further mention of the troubles of that card game. Jeff and
+Joe and Larry were instantly busied about <!-- Page 59 --><a name="Page_59"></a>the kitchen and in arranging
+the table, while Scottie, after the manner of a guest, bustled about and
+accomplished little.</p>
+
+<p>But the eye of Andy, then and thereafter, whenever he was near the five,
+kept steadily upon the scar-faced man. Henry had tilted his chair back
+against the wall. The night had come on chill, with a rising wind that
+hummed through the cracks of the ill-built wall and tossed the flame in
+the throat of the chimney; Henry draped a coat like a cloak around his
+shoulders and buried his chin in his hands, separated from the others by
+a vast gulf. Presently Scottie was sitting at the table. The others were
+gathered around him in expectant attitudes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's new?&quot; they exclaimed in one voice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, about a million things. Let me get some of this ham into my face,
+and then I'll talk. I've got a batch of newspapers yonder. There's a
+gold rush on up to Tolliver's Creek.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Andy blinked, for that news was at least four weeks old. But now came a
+tide of other news, and almost all of it was stale stuff to him. But the
+men drank it in&mdash;all except Henry, silent in his corner. He was relaxed,
+as if he slept. &quot;But the most news is about the killing of Bill Dozier.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 13</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>&quot;Ol' Bill!&quot; grunted red-headed Jeff. &quot;Well, I'll be hung! There's one
+good deed done. He was overdue, anyways.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Andy, waiting breathlessly, watched lest the eye of the narrator should
+swing toward him for the least part of a second. But Scottie seemed
+utterly oblivious of the fact that he sat in the same room with the
+murderer. &quot;<!-- Page 60 --><a name="Page_60"></a>Well, he got it,&quot; said Scottie. &quot;And he didn't get it from
+behind. Seems there was a young gent in Martindale&mdash;all you boys know
+old Jasper Lanning?&quot; There was an answering chorus. &quot;Well, he's got a
+nephew, Andrew Lanning. This kid was sort of a bashful kind, they say.
+But yesterday he up and bashed a fellow in the jaw, and the man went
+down. Whacked his head on a rock, and young Lanning thought his man was
+dead. So he holds off the crowd with a gun, hops a horse, and beats it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pretty, pretty!&quot; murmured Larry. &quot;But what's that got to do with that
+hyena, Bill Dozier?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't get it all hitched up straight. Most of the news come from
+Martindale to town by telephone. Seems this young Lanning was follered
+by Bill Dozier. He was always a hound for a job like that, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a growl of assent.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He hand-picked five rough ones and went after Lanning. Chased him all
+night. Landed at John Merchant's place. The kid had dropped in there to
+call on a girl. Can you beat that for cold nerve, him figuring that he'd
+killed a man, and Bill Dozier and five more on his trail to bring him
+back to wait and see whether the buck he dropped lived or died&mdash;and then
+to slide over and call on a lady? No, you can't raise that!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But the tidings were gradually breaking in upon the mind of Andrew
+Lanning. Buck Heath had not been dead; the pursuit was simply to bring
+him back on some charge of assault; and now&mdash;Bill Dozier&mdash;the head of
+Andrew swam.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Seems he didn't know her, either. Just paid a call round about dawn and
+then rode on. Bill comes along a little later on the trail, gets new
+horses from Merchant, and runs down Lanning early this morning. Runs him
+down, and then Lanning turns in the saddle and drills Bill through the
+head at five hundred yards.&quot; <!-- Page 61 --><a name="Page_61"></a>Henry came to life. &quot;How far?&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's what they got over the telephone,&quot; said Scottie apologetically.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then the news got to Hal Dozier from Merchant's house. Hal hops on the
+wire and gets in touch with the governor, and in about ten seconds they
+make this Lanning kid an outlaw and stick a price on his head&mdash;five
+thousand, I think, and they say Merchant is behind it. The telephone was
+buzzing with it when I left town, and most of the boys were oiling up
+their gats and getting ready to make a play. Pretty easy money, eh, for
+putting the rollers under a kid?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Andrew Lanning muttered aloud: &quot;An outlaw!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not the first time Bill Dozier has done it,&quot; said Henry calmly. &quot;That's
+an old maneuver of his&mdash;to hound a man from a little crime to a
+big one.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The throat of Andrew was dry. &quot;Did you get a description of young
+Lanning?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sure,&quot; nodded Scottie. &quot;Twenty-three years old, about five feet ten,
+black hair and black eyes, good looking, big shoulders, quiet spoken.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Andrew made a gesture and looked carelessly out the back window, but,
+from the corner of his eyes, he was noting the five men. Not a line of
+their expressions escaped him. He was seeing, literally, with eyes in
+the back of his head; and if, by the interchange of one knowing glance,
+or by a significant silence, even, these fellows had indicated that they
+remotely guessed his identity, he would have been on his feet like a
+tiger, gun in hand, and backing for the door. Five thousand dollars!
+What would not one of these men do for that sum?</p>
+
+<p>Andy had been keyed to the breaking point before; but his alertness was
+now trebled, and, like a sensitive barometer, he felt the danger of
+Larry, the brute strength of Jeff, the cunning of Henry, the grave poise
+of Joe, to say nothing of Scottie&mdash;an unknown force. <!-- Page 62 --><a name="Page_62"></a>But Scottie was
+running on in his talk; he was telling of how he met the storekeeper in
+town; he was naming everything he saw; these fellows seemed to hunger
+for the minutest news of men. They broke into admiring laughter when
+Scottie told of his victorious tilt of jesting with the storekeeper's
+daughter; even Henry came out of his patient gloom long enough to smile
+at this, and the rest were like children. Larry was laughing so heartily
+that his eyes began to twinkle. He even invited Andrew in on the mirth.</p>
+
+<p>At this point Andy stood up and stretched elaborately&mdash;but in stretching
+he put his arms behind him, and stretched them down rather than up, so
+that his hands were never far from his hips.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll be turning in,&quot; said Andy, and stepping back to the door so that
+his face would be toward them until the last instant of his exit, he
+waved good night.</p>
+
+<p>There was a brief shifting of eyes toward him, and a grunt from Jeff;
+that was all. Then the eye of every one reverted to Scottie. But the
+latter broke off his narrative.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ain't you sleepin' in?&quot; he asked. &quot;We could fix you a bunk upstairs, I
+guess.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Once more the glance of Andrew flashed from face to face, and then he
+saw the first suspicious thing. Scottie was looking straight at Henry,
+in the corner, as though waiting for a direction, and, from the corner
+of his eye, Andrew was aware that Henry had nodded ever so slightly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here's something you might be interested to know,&quot; said Scottie. &quot;This
+young Lanning was riding a pinto hoss.&quot; He added, while Andrew stood
+rooted to the spot: &quot;You seemed sort of interested in the description. I
+allowed maybe you'd try your hand at findin' him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Andy understood perfectly that he was known, and, with his left hand
+frozen against the knob of the door, he flattened his shoulders against
+the wall and stood ready for the draw. In the crisis, at the first
+hostile move, he decided that <!-- Page 63 --><a name="Page_63"></a>he would dive straight for the table,
+low. It would tumble the room into darkness as the candles fell&mdash;a
+semidarkness, for there would be a sputtering lantern still.</p>
+
+<p>Then he would fight for his life. And looking at the others, he saw that
+they were changed, indeed. They were all facing him, and their faces
+were alive with interest; yet they made no hostile move. No doubt they
+awaited the signal of Henry; there was the greatest danger; and now
+Henry stood up.</p>
+
+<p>His first word was a throwing down of disguises. &quot;Mr. Lanning,&quot; he said,
+&quot;I think this is a time for introductions.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>That cold exultation, that wild impulse to throw himself into the arms
+of danger, was sweeping over Andrew. He made no gesture toward his gun,
+though his fingers were curling, but he said: &quot;Friends, I've got you all
+in my eye. I'm going to open this door and go out. No harm to any of
+you. But if you try to stop me, it means trouble, a lot of
+trouble&mdash;quick!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Just a split second of suspense. If a foot stirred, or a hand raised,
+Andrew's curling hand would jerk up and bring out a revolver, and every
+man in the room knew it. Then the voice of Henry, &quot;You'd plan on
+fighting us all?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Take my bridle off the wall,&quot; said Andrew, looking straight before him
+at no face, and thereby enabled to see everything, just as a boxer looks
+in the eye of his opponent and thereby sees every move of his gloves.
+&quot;Take my bridle off the wall, you, Jeff, and throw it at my feet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The bridle rattled at his feet.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This has gone far enough,&quot; said Henry. &quot;Lanning, you've got the wrong
+idea. I'm going ahead with the introductions. The red-headed fellow we
+call Jeff is better known to the public as Jeff Rankin. Does that mean
+anything to you?&quot; Jeff Rankin acknowledged the introduction with a broad
+grin, the corners of his mouth being lost in the heavy fold of his
+jowls. &quot;I see it doesn't,&quot; went on Henry. &quot;<!-- Page 64 --><a name="Page_64"></a>Very well. Joe's name is Joe
+Clune. Yonder sits Scottie Macdougal. There is Larry la Roche. And I am
+Henry Allister.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The edge of Andrew's alertness was suddenly dulled. The last name swept
+into his brain a wave of meaning, for of all words on the mountain
+desert there was none more familiar than Henry Allister. Scar-faced
+Allister, they called him. Of those deadly men who figured in the tales
+of Uncle Jasper, Henry Allister was the last and the most grim. A
+thousand stories clustered about him: of how he killed Watkins; of how
+Langley, the famous Federal marshal, trailed him for five years and was
+finally killed in the duel which left Allister with that scar; of how he
+broke jail at Garrisonville and again at St. Luke City. In the
+imagination of Andrew he had loomed like a giant, some seven-foot
+prodigy, whiskered, savage of eye, terrible of voice. And, turning
+toward him, Andrew saw him in profile with the scar obscured&mdash;and his
+face was of almost feminine refinement.</p>
+
+<p>Five thousand dollars?</p>
+
+<p>A dozen rich men in the mountain desert would each pay more than that
+for the apprehension of Allister, dead or alive. And bitterly it came
+over Andrew that this genius of crime, this heartless murderer as story
+depicted him, was no danger to him but almost a friend. And the other
+four ruffians of Allister's band were smiling cordially at him, enjoying
+his astonishment. The day before his hair would have turned white in
+such a place among such men; tonight they were his friends.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><!-- Page 65 --><a name="Page_65"></a>CHAPTER 14</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>After that things happened to Andrew in a swirl. They were shaking hands
+with him. They were congratulating him on the killing of Bill Dozier.
+They were patting him on the back. Larry la Roche, who had been so
+hostile, now stood up to the full of his ungainly height and proposed
+his health. And the other men drank it standing. Andy received a tin cup
+half full of whisky, and he drank the burning stuff in acknowledgment.
+The unaccustomed drink went to his head, his muscles began to relax, his
+eyes swam. Voices boomed at him out of a haze. &quot;Why, he's only a young
+kid. One shot put him under the weather.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Shut up, Larry. He'll learn fast enough.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, yes,&quot; said Larry to himself, &quot;he'll learn fast enough!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Presently he was lifted and carried by strong arms up a creaking stairs.
+He looked up, and he saw the red hair of the mighty Jeff, who carried
+him as if he had been a child, and deposited him among some blankets.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I didn't know,&quot; Larry la Roche was saying. &quot;How could I tell a
+man-killer like him couldn't stand no more than a girl?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Shut up and get out,&quot; said another voice. Heavy footsteps retreated,
+then Andrew heard them once more grumbling and booming below him.</p>
+
+<p>After that his head cleared rapidly. Two windows were open in this
+higher room, and a sharp current of the night wind blew across him,
+clearing his mind as rapidly as wind blows away a fog. Now he made out
+that one man had not left him; the dark outline of him was by the
+bed, waiting.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who's there?&quot; asked Andrew. &quot;<!-- Page 66 --><a name="Page_66"></a>Allister. Take it easy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm all right. I'll go down again to the boys.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's what I'm here to talk to you about, kid. Are you sure your
+head's clear?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yep. Sure thing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then listen to me, Lanning, while I talk. It's important. Stay here
+till the morning, then ride on.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, away from Martindale, that's all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Out of the desert? Out of the mountains?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course. They'll hunt for you here.&quot; Allister paused, then went on.
+&quot;And when you get away what'll you do? Go straight?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;God willing,&quot; said Andrew fervently. &quot;It&mdash;it was only luck, bad luck,
+that put me where I am.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The outlaw scratched a match and lighted a candle; then he dropped a
+little of the melted tallow on a box, and by that light he peered
+earnestly into Andrew's face. He appeared to need this light to read the
+expression on it. It also enabled Andrew to see the face of Allister.
+Sometimes the play of shadows made that face unreal as a dream,
+sometimes the face was filled with poetic beauty, sometimes the light
+gleamed on the scar and the sardonic smile, and then it was a face
+out of hell.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're going to get away from the mountain desert and go straight,&quot;
+said Allister.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's it.&quot; He saw that the outlaw was staring with a smile, half grim
+and half sad, into the shadows and far away.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lanning, let me tell you. You'll never get away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You don't understand,&quot; said Andrew. &quot;I don't like fighting. It&mdash;it
+makes me sick inside. I'm not a brave man!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He waited to see the contempt come on the face of the famous leader, but
+there was nothing but grave attention.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why,&quot; Andy went on in a rush of confidence, &quot;everybody in Martindale
+knows that I'm not a fighter. Those <!-- Page 67 --><a name="Page_67"></a>fellows downstairs think that I'm a
+sort of bad hombre. I'm not. Why, Allister, when I turned over Buck
+Heath and saw his face, I nearly fainted, and then&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wait,&quot; cut in the other. &quot;That was your first man. You didn't kill him,
+but you thought you had. You nearly fainted, then. But as I gather it,
+after you shot Bill Dozier you simply sat on your horse and waited. Did
+you feel like fainting then?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; explained Andrew hastily. &quot;I wanted to go after them and shoot'em
+all. They could have rushed me and taken me prisoner easily, but they
+wanted to shoot me from a distance&mdash;and it made me mad to see them work
+it. I&mdash;I hated them all, and I had a reason for it. Curse them!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He added hurriedly: &quot;But I've no grudge against anybody. All I want is a
+chance to live quiet and clean.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a faint sigh from Allister.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lanning,&quot; he murmured, &quot;the minute I laid eyes on you, I knew you were
+one of my kind. In all my life I've known only one other with that same
+chilly effect in his eyes&mdash;that was Marshal Langley&mdash;only he happened to
+be on the side of the law. No matter. He had the iron dust in him. He
+was cut out to be a man-killer. You say you want to get away: Lanning,
+you can't do it. Because you can't get away from yourself. I'm making a
+long talk to you, but you're worth it. I tell you I read your mind. You
+plan on riding north and getting out of the mountain desert before the
+countryside there is raised against you, the way it's raised to the
+south. In the first place, I don't think you'll get away. Hal Dozier is
+on your trail, and he'll get to the north and raise the whole district
+and stop you before you hit the towns. You'll have to go back to the
+mountain desert. You'll have to do it eventually, why not do it now?
+Lanning, if I had you at my back I could laugh at the law the rest of
+our lives! Stay with me. I can tell a man when I see him. I saw you call
+Larry la Roche. And I've never wanted a man <!-- Page 68 --><a name="Page_68"></a>the way I want you. Not to
+follow me, but as a partner. Shake and say you will!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The slender hand was stretched out through the shadows, the light from
+the candle flashed on it. And a power outside his own will made Andrew
+move his hand to meet it. He stopped the gesture with a violent effort.</p>
+
+<p>The swift voice of the outlaw, with a fiber of earnest persuasion in it,
+went on: &quot;You see what I risk to get you. Hal Dozier is on your trail.
+He's the only man in the world I'd think twice about before I met him
+face to face. But if I join to you, I'll have to meet him sooner or
+later. Well, Lanning, I'll take that risk. I know he's more devil than
+man when it comes to gun play, but we'll meet him together. Give me
+your hand!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a riot in the brain of Andrew Lanning. The words of the outlaw
+had struck something in him that was like metal chiming on metal. Iron
+dust? That was it! The call of one blood to another, and he realized the
+truth of what Allister said. If he touched the hand of this man, there
+would be a bond between them which only death could break. In one
+blinding rush he sensed the strength and the faith of Allister.</p>
+
+<p>But another voice was at his ear, and he saw Anne Withero, as she had
+stood for that moment in his arms in her room. It came over him with a
+chill like cold moonlight.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you fear me?&quot; he had whispered.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will you remember me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Forever!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And with that ghost of a voice in his ear Andrew Lanning groaned to the
+man beside him: &quot;Partner, I know you're nine-tenths man, and I thank you
+out of the bottom of my heart. But there's some one else has a claim to
+me&mdash;I don't belong to myself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a breathless pause. Anger contracted the face <!-- Page 69 --><a name="Page_69"></a>of Henry
+Allister; he nodded gravely.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's the girl you went back to see,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, then, go ahead and try to win through. I wish you luck. But if
+you fail, remember what I've said. Now, or ten years from now, what I've
+said goes for you. Now roll over and sleep. Good-by, Lanning, or,
+rather, au revoir!&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 15</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>The excitement kept Andrew awake for a little time, but then the hum of
+the wind, the roll of voices below him, and the weariness of the long
+ride rushed on him like a wave and washed him out into an ebb of sleep.</p>
+
+<p>When he wakened the aches were gone from his limbs, and his mind was a
+happy blank. Only when he started up from his blankets and rapped his
+head against the slanting rafters just above him, he was brought to a
+painful realization of where he was. He turned, scowling, and the first
+thing he saw was a piece of brown wrapping paper held down by a shoe and
+covered with a clumsy scrawl.</p>
+
+<p>These blankets are yours and the slicker along with
+them and heres wishin you luck while youre beatin it
+back to civlizashun. your friend, JEFF RANKIN.</p>
+
+<p>Andy glanced swiftly about the room and saw that the other bunks had
+been removed. He swept up the blankets and went down the stairs to the
+first floor. The house reeked of emptiness; broken bottles, a twisted
+tin plate in which some one had set his heel, were the last signs of the
+outlaws of Henry Allister's gang. A bundle stood on the <!-- Page 70 --><a name="Page_70"></a>table with
+another piece of the wrapping paper near it. The name of Andrew Lanning
+was on the outside. He unfolded the sheet and read in a precise, rather
+feminine writing:</p>
+
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Dear Lanning: We are, in a manner, sneaking off.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;I've already said good-by, and I don't want to tempt<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;you again. Now you're by yourself and you've got your<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;own way to fight. The boys agree with me. We all want<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;to see you make good. We'll all be sorry if you come<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;back to us. But once you've found out that it's no go<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;trying to beat back to good society, we'll be mighty<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;happy to have you with us. In the meantime, we want<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;to do our bit to help Andrew Lanning make up for his<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;bad luck.<br>
+
+&nbsp;&nbsp;For my part, I've put a chamois sack on top of the<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;leather coat with the fur lining. You'll find a little<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;money in that purse. Don't be foolish. Take the money<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;I leave you, and, when you're back on your feet, I know<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;that you'll repay it at your own leisure.<br>
+
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And here's best luck to you and the girl.<br>
+
+&nbsp;&nbsp;HENRY ALLISTER.<br>
+
+<p>Andrew lifted the chamois sack carelessly, and out of its mouth tumbled
+a stream of gold. One by one he picked up the pieces and replaced them;
+he hesitated, and then put the sack in his pocket. How could he refuse a
+gift so delicately made?</p>
+
+<p>A broken kitchen knife had been thrust through a bit of the paper on the
+box. He read this next:</p>
+
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Your hoss is known. So I'm leaving you one in place<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;of the pinto. He goes good and he dont need no spurring<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;but when you come behind him keep watching<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;your step. your pal, &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;LARRY LA ROCHE.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<br>
+<p><!-- Page 71 --><a name="Page_71"></a>Blankets and slicker, money, horse. A flask of whisky stood on another
+slip of the paper. And the writing on this was much more legible.</p>
+
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Here's a friend in need. When you come to a pinch,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;use it. And when you come to a bigger pinch send word<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;to your friend, &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;SCOTTIE MACDOUGAL.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<br>
+<p>Andrew picked it up, set it down again, and smiled. On the fur coat
+there was a fifth tag. Not one of the five, then, had forgotten him.</p>
+
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Its comin on cold, partner. Take this coat and welcome.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;When the snows get on the mountains if you<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;aint out of the desert put on this coat and think of your<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;partner,&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;JOE CLUNE.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;P.S.&mdash;I seen you first, and I have first call on you over<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;the rest of these gents and you can figure that you have<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;first call on me.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; J.C.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<br>
+<p>When he had read all these little letters, when he had gathered his loot
+before him, Andrew lifted his head and could have burst into song. This
+much thieves and murderers had done for him; what would the good men of
+the world do? How would they meet him halfway?</p>
+
+<p>He went into the kitchen. They had forgotten nothing. There was a
+quantity of &quot;chuck,&quot; flour, bacon, salt, coffee, a frying pan, a cup,
+a canteen.</p>
+
+<p>It brought a lump in his throat. He cast open the back door, and,
+standing in the little pasture, he saw only one horse remaining. It was
+a fine, young chestnut gelding with a Roman nose and long, mulish ears.
+His head was not beautiful to see from any angle, but every detail of
+the body spelled speed, and speed meant safety.</p>
+
+<p>What wonder, then, that Andrew began to see the world <!-- Page 72 --><a name="Page_72"></a>through a bright
+mist? What wonder that when he had finished his breakfast he sang while
+he roped the chestnut, built the pack behind the saddle, and filled the
+saddlebags. When he was in the saddle, the gelding took at once the
+cattle path with a long and easy canter.</p>
+
+<p>With his head cleared by sleep, his muscles and nerves relaxed, Andrew
+began to plan his escape with more calm deliberation than before.</p>
+
+<p>The first goal was the big blue cloud on the northern horizon&mdash;a good
+week's journey ahead of him&mdash;the Little Canover Mountains. Among the
+foothills lay the cordon of small towns which it would be his chief
+difficulty to pass. For, if the printed notices describing him were
+circulated among them, the countryside would be up in arms, prepared to
+intercept his flight. Otherwise, there would be nothing but telephoned
+and telegraphed descriptions of him, which, at best, could only come to
+the ears of a few, and these few would be necessarily put out by the
+slightest difference between him and the description. Such a vital
+difference, for instance, as the fact that he now rode a chestnut, while
+the instructions called for a man on a pinto.</p>
+
+<p>Moreover, it was by no means certain that Hal Dozier, great trailer
+though he was, would know that the fugitive was making for the northern
+mountains. With all these things in mind, in spite of the pessimism of
+Henry Allister, Andrew felt that he had far more than a fighting chance
+to break out of the mountain desert and into the comparative safety of
+the crowded country beyond.</p>
+
+<p>He made one mistake in the beginning. He pushed the chestnut too hard
+the first and second days, so that on the third day he was forced to
+give the gelding his head and go at a jarring trot most of the day. On
+the fourth and fifth days, however, he had the reward for his caution.
+The chestnut's ribs were beginning to show painfully, but he kept
+doggedly at his work with no sign of faltering. The <!-- Page 73 --><a name="Page_73"></a>sixth day brought
+Andrew Lanning in close view of the lower hills. And on the seventh day
+he put his fortune boldly to the touch and jogged into the first little
+town before him.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 16</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>It was just after the hot hour of the afternoon. The shadows from the
+hills to the west were beginning to drop across the village; people who
+had kept to their houses during the early afternoon now appeared on
+their porches. Small boys and girls, returning from school, were
+beginning to play. Their mothers were at the open doors exchanging
+shouted pieces of news and greetings, and Andrew picked his way with
+care along the street. It was a town flung down in the throat of a
+ravine without care or pattern. There was not even one street, but
+rather a collection of straggling paths which met about a sort of open
+square, on the sides of which were the stores and the inevitable saloons
+and hotel.</p>
+
+<p>But the narrow path along which Andrew rode was a gantlet to him. For
+all he knew, the placards might be already out, one of the least of
+those he passed might have recognized him. He noticed that one or two
+women, in their front door, stopped in the midst of a word to watch him
+curiously. It seemed to Andrew that a buzz of comment and warning
+preceded him and closed behind him. He felt sure that the children stood
+and gaped at him from behind, but he dared not turn in his saddle to
+look back.</p>
+
+<p>And he kept on, reining in the gelding, and probing every face with one
+swift, resistless glance that went to the heart. He found himself
+literally taking the brains and <!-- Page 74 --><a name="Page_74"></a>hearts of men into the palm of his hand
+and weighing them. Yonder old man, so quiet, with the bony fingers
+clasped around the bowl of his corncob, sitting under the awning by the
+watering trough&mdash;that would be an ill man to cross in a pinch&mdash;that hand
+would be steady as a rock on the barrel of a gun. But the big, square
+man with the big, square face who talked so loudly on the porch of
+yonder store&mdash;there was a bag of wind that could be punctured by one
+threat and turned into a figure of tallow by the sight of a gun.</p>
+
+<p>Andrew went on with his lightning summary of the things he passed. But
+when he came to the main square, the heart of the town, it was quite
+empty. He went across to the hotel, tied the gelding at the rack, and
+sat down on the veranda. He wanted with all his might to go inside, to
+get a room, to be alone and away from this battery of searching eyes.
+But he dared not. He must mingle with these people and learn what
+they knew.</p>
+
+<p>He went in and sought the bar. It should be there, if anywhere, the
+poster with the announcement of Andrew Lanning's outlawry and the
+picture of him. What picture would they take? The old snapshot of the
+year before, which Jasper had taken? No doubt that would be the one. But
+much as he yearned to do so, he dared not search the wall. He stood up
+to the bar and faced the bartender. The latter favored him with one
+searching glance, and then pushed across the whisky bottle.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you know me?&quot; asked Andrew with surprise. And then he could have
+cursed his careless tongue.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know you need a drink,&quot; said the bartender, looking at Andrew again.
+Suddenly he grinned. &quot;When a man's been dry that long he gets a hungry
+look around the eyes that I know. Hit her hard, boy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Andrew brimmed his glass and tossed off the drink. And to his
+astonishment there was none of the shocking effect <!-- Page 75 --><a name="Page_75"></a>of his first drink
+of whisky. It was like a drop of water tossed on a huge blotter. To his
+tired nerves the alcohol was a mere nothing. Besides, he dared not let
+it affect him. He filled a second glass, pushing across the bar one of
+the gold pieces of Henry Allister. Then, turning casually, he glanced
+along the wall. There were other notices up&mdash;many written ones&mdash;but not
+a single face looked back at him. All at once he grew weak with relief.
+But in the meantime he must talk to this fellow.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's the news?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What kind of news?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Any kind. I've been talkin' more to coyotes than to men for a long
+spell.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Should he have said that? Was not that a suspicious speech? Did it not
+expose him utterly?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothin' to talk about here much more excitin' than a coyote's yap. Not
+a damn thing. Which way you come from?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;South. The last I heard of excitin' news was this stuff about Lanning,
+the outlaw.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was out, and he was glad of it. He had taken the bull by the horns.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lanning? Lanning? Never heard of him. Oh, yes, the gent that bumped off
+Bill Dozier. Between you and me, they won't be any sobbin' for that.
+Bill had it comin'. But they've outlawed Lanning, have they?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's what I hear.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But sweet beyond words had been this speech from the bartender. They had
+barely heard of Andrew Lanning in this town; they did not even know that
+he was outlawed. Andrew felt hysterical laughter bubbling in his throat.
+Now for one long sleep; then he would make the ride across the mountains
+and into safety.</p>
+
+<p>He went out of the barroom, put the gelding away in the <!-- Page 76 --><a name="Page_76"></a>stables behind
+the hotel, and got a room. In ten minutes, pausing only to tear the
+boots from his feet, he was sound asleep under the very gates
+of freedom.</p>
+
+<p>And while he slept the gates were closing and barring the way. If he had
+wakened even an hour sooner, all would have been well and, though he
+might have dusted the skirts of danger, they could never have blocked
+his way. But, with seven days of exhausting travel behind him, he slept
+like one drugged, the clock around and more. It was morning,
+mid-morning, when he wakened.</p>
+
+<p>Even then he was too late, but he wasted priceless minutes eating his
+breakfast, for it was delightful beyond words to have food served to him
+which he had not cooked with his own hands. And so, sauntering out onto
+the veranda of the hotel, he saw a compact crowd on the other side of
+the square and the crowd focused on a man who was tacking up a sign.
+Andrew, still sauntering, joined the crowd, and looking over their
+heads, he found his own face staring back at him; and, under the picture
+of that lean, serious face, in huge black type, five thousand dollars
+reward for the capture, dead or alive&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>The rest of the notice blurred before his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Some one was speaking. &quot;You made a quick trip, Mr. Dozier, and I expect
+if you send word up to Hallowell in the mountains they can&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So Hal Dozier had brought the notices himself.</p>
+
+<p>Andrew, in that moment, became perfectly calm. He went back to the
+hotel, and, resting one elbow on the desk, he looked calmly into the
+face of the clerk and the proprietor. Instantly he saw that the men did
+not suspect&mdash;as yet.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hear Mr. Dozier's here?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Room seventeen,&quot; said the clerk. &quot;Hold on. He's out in the square now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'S all right. I'll wait in his room.&quot; <!-- Page 77 --><a name="Page_77"></a>He went to room seventeen. The
+door was unlocked. And drawing a chair into the farthest corner, Andrew
+sat down, rolled a cigarette, drew his revolver, and waited.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 17</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>He waited an eternity; in actual time it was exactly ten minutes. Then a
+cavalcade tramped down the hall. He heard their voices, and Hal Dozier
+was among them. About him flowed a babble of questions as the men
+struggled for the honor of a word from the great man. Perhaps he was
+coming to his room to form the posse and issue general instructions for
+the chase.</p>
+
+<p>The door opened. Dozier entered, jerked his head squarely to one side,
+and found himself gazing into the muzzle of a revolver. The astonishment
+and the swift hardening of his face had begun and ended in a fraction
+of a second.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's you, eh?&quot; he said, still holding the door.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Right,&quot; said Andrew. &quot;I'm here for a little chat about this Lanning
+you're after.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Hal Dozier paused another heartbreaking second, then he saw that caution
+was the better way. &quot;I'll have to shut you out for a minute or two,
+boys. Go down to the bar and have a few on me.&quot; He turned, laughing and
+waving to them. Then the door closed, and Dozier turned slowly to face
+his hunted man. Into Andrew's mind came back the words of the great
+outlaw, Allister: &quot;There's one man I'd think twice about meeting,
+and that&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sit down,&quot; said Andrew. &quot;And you can take off your belt if you want to.
+Easy! That's it. Thank you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The belt and the guns were tossed onto the bed, and Hal <!-- Page 78 --><a name="Page_78"></a>Dozier sat
+down. He reminded Andrew of a terrier, not heavy, but all compact nerve
+and fighting force.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll not frisk you for another gun,&quot; said Andrew.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thanks; I have one, but I'll let it lie.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He made a movement. &quot;If you don't mind,&quot; said Andrew, &quot;I'd rather that
+you don't reach into your pockets. Use my tobacco and papers, if you
+wish.&quot; He tossed them onto the table, and Hal Dozier rolled his smoke in
+silence. Then he tilted back in his chair a little. His hand with the
+cigarette was as steady as a vise, and Andrew, shrugging forward his own
+ponderous shoulders, dropped his elbows on his knees and trained the gun
+full on his companion.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've come to make a bargain, Dozier,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>The other made no comment, and the two continued that silent struggle of
+the eyes that was making Andrew's throat dry and his heart leap.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here's the bargain: Drop off this trail. Let the law take its own
+course through other hands, but you give me your word to keep off the
+trail. If you'll do that I'll leave this country and stay away. Except
+for one thing, I'll never come back here. You're a proud man; you've
+never quit a trail yet before the end of it. But this time I only ask
+you to let it go with running me out of the country.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's the one thing for which you'd come back?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll come back&mdash;once&mdash;because of a girl.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He saw the eyes of Dozier widen and then contract again. &quot;You're not
+exactly what I expected to find,&quot; he said. &quot;But go on. If I don't take
+the bargain you pull that trigger?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Exactly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;H'm! You may have heard the voices of the men who came up the hall with
+me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The moment a report of a gun is heard they'll swarm up to this room and
+get you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They made too much noise. Barking dogs don't bite. <!-- Page 79 --><a name="Page_79"></a>Besides, the moment
+I've dropped you I go out that window.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's a good bluff, Lanning,&quot; said the other. &quot;I'll tell you what, if
+you were what I expected you to be, a hysterical kid, who had a bit of
+bad luck and good rolled together, I'd take that offer. But you're
+different&mdash;you're a man. All in all, Lanning, I think you're about as
+much of a man as I've ever crossed before. No, you won't pull that
+trigger, because there isn't one deliberate murder packed away in your
+system. It's a good bluff, as I said before, and I admire the way you
+worked it. But it won't do. I call it. I won't leave your trail,
+Lanning. Now pull your trigger.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He smiled straight into the eye of the younger man. A flush jumped into
+the cheeks of Andrew, and, fading, left him by contrast paler than ever.
+&quot;You were one-quarter of an inch from death, Dozier,&quot; he replied.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lanning, with men like you&mdash;and like myself, I hope&mdash;there's no
+question of distance. It's either a miss or a hit. Here's a better
+proposition: Let me put my belt on again. Then put your own gun back in
+the holster. We'll turn and face the wall. And when the clock downstairs
+strikes ten&mdash;that'll be within a few minutes&mdash;we'll turn and blaze at
+the first sound.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He watched his companion eagerly, and he saw the face of Andrew work. &quot;I
+can't do it, Dozier,&quot; said Andrew. &quot;I'd like to. But I can't!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why not?&quot; The voice of Hal Dozier was sharp with a new suspicion. &quot;Get
+me out of the way, and you're free to get across the mountains, and,
+once there, your trail will never be found. I know that; every one knows
+that. That's why I hit up here after you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll tell you why,&quot; said Andrew slowly. &quot;I've got the blood of one man
+on my hands already, but, so help me God, I'm not going to have another
+stain. I had to shoot <!-- Page 80 --><a name="Page_80"></a>once, because I was hounded into it. And, if this
+thing keeps on, I'm going to shoot again&mdash;and again. But as long as I
+can I'm fighting to keep clean, you understand?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His voice became thin and rose as he spoke; his breath was a series of
+gasps, and Hal Dozier changed color.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think,&quot; said Andrew, regaining his self-control, &quot;that I'd kill you.
+I think I'm just a split second surer and faster than you are with a
+gun. But don't you see, Dozier?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He cast out his left hand, but his right hand held the revolver like a
+rock.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't you see? I've got the taint in me. I've killed my man. If I kill
+another I'll go bad. I know it. Life will mean nothing to me. I can feel
+it in me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His voice fell and became deeper.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dozier, give me my chance. It's up to you. Stand aside now, and I'll
+get across those mountains and become a decent man. Keep me here, and
+I'll be a killer. I know it; you know it. Why are you after me? Because
+your brother was killed by me. Dozier, think of your brother and then
+look at me. Was his life worth my life? You're a cool-headed man. You
+knew him, and you knew what he was worth. His killings were as long as
+the worst bad man that ever stepped, except that he had the law behind
+him. When he got on my trail he knew that I was just a scared kid who
+thought he'd killed a man. Why didn't he let me run until I found out
+that I hadn't killed Buck Heath? Then he knew, and you know, that I'd
+have come back. But he wouldn't give me the chance. He ran me into the
+ground, and I shot him down. And that minute he turned me from a scared
+kid into an outlaw&mdash;a killer. Tell me, man to man, Dozier, if Bill
+hasn't already done me more wrong than I've done him!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As he finished that strange appeal he noted that the famous fighter was
+white about the mouth and shaken. He added with a burst of appeal: &quot;Hal,
+you know I'm <!-- Page 81 --><a name="Page_81"></a>straight. You know I'm worth a chance.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The older man lifted his head at last. &quot;Andy, I can't leave the trail.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At that sentence every muscle of Andrew's body relaxed, and he sat like
+one in a state of collapse, except that the right hand and the gun in it
+were steady as rocks.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here's something between you and me that I'd swear I never said if I
+was called in a court,&quot; went on Hal Dozier in a solemn murmur. &quot;I'll
+tell you that I know Bill was no good. I've known it for years, and I've
+told him so. It's Bill that bled me, and bled me until I've had to soak
+a mortgage on the ranch. It's Bill that's spent the money on his cussed
+booze and gambling. Until now there's a man that can squeeze and ruin me
+any day, and that's Merchant. He sent me hot along this trail. He sent
+me, but my pride sent me also. No, son, I wasn't bought altogether. And
+if I'd known as much about you then as I know now, I'd never have
+started to hound you. But now I've started. Everybody in the mountains,
+every puncher on the range knows that Hal Dozier has started on a new
+trail, and every man of them knows that I've never failed before. Andy,
+I can't give it up. You see, I've got no shame before you. I tell you
+the straight of it. I tell you that I'm a bought man. But I can't leave
+this trail to go back and face the boys. If one of them was to shake his
+head and say on the side that I'm no longer the man I used to be, I'd
+shoot him dead as sure as there's a reckoning that I'm bound for. It
+isn't you, Andy; it's my reputation that makes me go on.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He stopped, and the two men looked sadly at each other.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Andy, boy,&quot; said Hal Dozier, &quot;I've no more bad feeling toward you than
+if you was my own boy.&quot; Then he added with a little ring to his voice:
+&quot;But I'm going to stay on your trail till I kill you. You write that
+down in red.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And the outlaw dropped his gun suddenly into the holster. &quot;<!-- Page 82 --><a name="Page_82"></a>That ends
+it, then,&quot; he said slowly. &quot;The next time we meet we won't sit down and
+chin friendly like. We'll let our guns do our talking for us. And, first
+of all, I'm going to get across these mountains, Hal, in spite of you
+and your friends.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You can't do it, Andy. Try it. I've sent the word up. The whole
+mountains will be alive watchin' for you. Every trail will be alive
+with guns.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Andrew stood up, and, using always his left hand while the right arm
+hung with apparent carelessness at his side, he arranged his hat so that
+it came forward at a jaunty angle, and then hitched his belt around so
+that the holster hung a little more to the rear. The position for a gun
+when one is sitting is quite different from the proper position when one
+is standing. All these things Uncle Jasper had taught Andrew long and
+long before. He was remembering them in chunks.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Give me three minutes to get my saddle on my horse and out of town,&quot;
+said Andrew. &quot;Is that fair?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Considering that you could have filled me full of lead here,&quot; said Hal
+Dozier, with a wry smile, &quot;I think that's fair enough.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 18</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>As Andrew went down the stairs and through the entrance hall he noticed
+it was filled with armed men. At the door he paused for the least
+fraction of a second, and during that breathing space he had seen every
+face in the room. Then he walked carelessly across to the desk and asked
+for his bill.</p>
+
+<p>Someone, as he crossed the room, whirled to follow him <!-- Page 83 --><a name="Page_83"></a>with a glance.
+Andy heard, for his ears were sharpened: &quot;I thought for a minute&mdash;But it
+does look like him!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Aw, Mike, I seen that gent in the barroom the other day. Besides, he's
+just a kid.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So's this Lanning. I'm going out to look at the poster again. You hold
+this gent here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All right. I'll talk to him while you're gone. But be quick. I'll be
+holdin' a laugh for you, Mike.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Andrew paid his bill, but as he reached the door a short man with legs
+bowed by a life in the saddle waddled out to him and said: &quot;Just a
+minute, partner. Are you one of us?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;One of who?&quot; asked Andrew.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;One of the posse Hal is getting together? Well, come to think of it, I
+guess you're a stranger around here, ain't you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Me?&quot; asked Andrew. &quot;Why, I've just been talking to Hal.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;About young Lanning?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By the way, if you're out of Hal's country, maybe you know Lanning,
+too?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sure. I've stood as close to him as I am to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You don't say so! What sort of a looking fellow is he?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I'll tell you,&quot; said Andrew, and he smiled in an embarrassed
+manner. &quot;They say he's a ringer for me. Not much of a compliment,
+is it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The other gasped, and then laughed heartily. &quot;No, it ain't, at that,&quot; he
+replied. &quot;Say, I got a pal that wants to talk to you. Sort of a job on
+him, at that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll tell you what,&quot; said Andy calmly. &quot;Take him in to the bar, and
+I'll come in and have a drink with him and you in about two
+minutes. S'long.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He was gone through the door while the other half reached a hand toward
+him. But that was all.</p>
+
+<p>In the stables he had the saddle on the chestnut in twenty <!-- Page 84 --><a name="Page_84"></a>seconds, and
+brought him to the watering trough before the barroom.</p>
+
+<p>He found his short, bow-legged friend in the barroom in the midst of
+excited talk with a big, blond man. He looked a German, with his parted
+beard and his imposing front and he had the stern blue eye of a fighter.
+&quot;Is this your friend?&quot; asked Andrew, and walked straight up to them. He
+watched the eyes of the big man expand and then narrow; his hand even
+fumbled at his hip, but then he shook his head. He was too bewildered
+to act.</p>
+
+<p>At that moment there was an uproar from the upper part of the hotel.
+With a casual wave of his hand, Andy wandered out of the barroom and
+then raced for the street. He heard men shouting in the lobby.</p>
+
+<p>A fighting mass jammed its way into the open, and there, in the middle
+of the square, sat Hal Dozier on his gray stallion. He was giving orders
+in a voice that rang above the crowd, and made voices hush in whispers
+as they heard him. Under his direction the crowd split into groups of
+four and five and six and rode at full speed in three directions out of
+the town. In the meantime there were two trusted friends of Hal Dozier
+busy at telephones in the hotel. They were calling little towns among
+the mountains. The red alarm was spreading like wildfire, and faster
+than the fastest horse could gallop.</p>
+
+<p>But Andrew, with the chestnut running like a red flash beneath him, had
+vanished.</p>
+
+<p>Buried away in the mountains, one stiff day's march, was a trapper whom
+Uncle Jasper had once befriended. That was many a day long since, but
+Uncle Jasper had saved the man's life, and he had often told Andrew
+that, sooner or later, he must come to that trapper's cabin to talk of
+the old times.</p>
+
+<p>He was bound there now. For, if he could get shelter for three days, the
+hue and cry would subside. When the <!-- Page 85 --><a name="Page_85"></a>mountaineers were certain that he
+must have gone past them to other places and slipped through their
+greedy fingers he could ride on in comparative safety. It was an
+excellent plan. It gave Andrew such a sense of safety, as he trotted the
+chestnut up a steep grade, that he did not hear another horse, coming in
+the opposite direction, until the latter was almost upon him. Then,
+coming about a sharp shoulder of the hill, he almost ran upon a
+bare-legged boy, who rode without saddle upon the back of a bay mare.
+The mare leaped catlike to one side, and her little rider clung like a
+piece of her hide. &quot;You might holler, comin' around a turn,&quot; shrilled
+the boy. And he brought the mare to a halt by jerking the rope around
+her neck. He had no other means of guiding her, no sign of a bridle.</p>
+
+<p>But Andrew looked with hungry eyes. He knew something of horses, and
+this bay fitted into his dreams of an ideal perfectly. She was
+beautiful, quite heavily built in the body, with a great spread of
+breast that surely told of an honest heart beneath a glorious head, legs
+that fairly shouted to Andrew of good blood, and, above all, she had
+that indescribable thing which is to a horse what personality is to a
+man. She did not win admiration, she commanded it. And she stood alert
+at the side of the road, looking at Andrew like a queen. Horse stealing
+is the cardinal sin in the mountain desert, but Andrew felt the moment
+he saw her that she must be his. At least he would first try to buy her
+honorably.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Son,&quot; he said to the urchin, &quot;how much for that horse?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why,&quot; said the boy, &quot;anything you'll give.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't laugh at me,&quot; said Andrew sternly. &quot;I like her looks and I'll buy
+her. I'll trade this chestnut&mdash;and he's a fine traveler&mdash;with a good
+price to boot. If your father lives up the road and not down, turn back
+with me and I'll see if I can't make a trade.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You don't have to see him,&quot; said the boy. &quot;I can tell you <!-- Page 86 --><a name="Page_86"></a>that he'll
+sell her. You throw in the chestnut and you won't have to give any
+boot.&quot; And he grinned.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But there's the house.&quot; He pointed across the ravine at a little
+green-roofed shack buried in the rocks. &quot;You can come over if you
+want to.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is there something wrong with her?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothin' much. Pop says she's the best hoss that ever run in these
+parts. And he knows, I'll tell a man!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Son, I've got to have that horse!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mister,&quot; said the boy suddenly, &quot;I know how you feel. Lots feel the
+same way. You want her bad, but she ain't worth her feed. A skunk put a
+bur under the saddle when she was bein' broke, and since then anybody
+can ride her bareback, but nothin' in the mountains can sit a saddle
+on her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Andrew cast one more long, sad look at the horse. He had never seen a
+horse that went so straight to his heart, and then he straightened the
+chestnut up the road and went ahead.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 19</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>He had to be guided by what Uncle Jasper had often described&mdash;a mountain
+whose crest was split like the crown of a hat divided sharply by a
+knife, and the twin peaks were like the ears of a mule, except that they
+came together at the base. By the position of those distant summits he
+knew that he was in the ravine leading to the cabin of Hank Rainer,
+the trapper.</p>
+
+<p>Presently the sun flashed on a white cliff, a definite landmark by which
+Uncle Jasper had directed him, so Andrew turned out of his path on the
+eastern side of the gully and <!-- Page 87 --><a name="Page_87"></a>rode across the ravine. The slope was
+steep on either side, covered with rocks, thick with slides of loose
+pebbles and sand. His horse, accustomed to a more open country, was
+continually at fault. He did not like his work, and kept tossing his
+ugly head and champing the bit as they went down to the river bottom.</p>
+
+<p>It was not a real river, but only an angry creek that went fuming and
+crashing through the ca&ntilde;on with a voice as loud as some great stream.
+Andrew had to watch with care for a ford, for though the bed was not
+deep the water ran like a rifle bullet over smooth places and was torn
+to a white froth when it struck projecting rocks. He found, at length, a
+place where it was backed up into a shallow pool, and here he rode
+across, hardly wetting the belly of the gelding. Then up the far slope
+he was lost at once in a host of trees. They cut him off from his
+landmark, the white cliff, but he kept on with a feel for the right
+direction, until he came to a sudden clearing, and in the clearing was a
+cabin. It was apparently just a one-room shanty with a shed leaning
+against it from the rear. No doubt the shed was for the trapper's horse.</p>
+
+<p>He had no time for further thought. In the open door of the cabin
+appeared a man so huge that he had to bend his head to look out, and
+Andrew's heart fell. It was not the slender, rawboned youth of whom
+Uncle Jasper had told him, but a hulking giant. And then he remembered
+that twenty years had passed since Uncle Jasper rode that way, and in
+twenty years the gaunt body might have filled out, the shock of
+bright-red hair of which Jasper spoke might well have been the original
+of the red flood which now covered the face and throat of the big man.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hello!&quot; called the trapper. &quot;Are you one of the boys on the trail?
+Well, I ain't seen anything. Been about six others here already.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The blood leaped in Andrew, and then ran coldly back <!-- Page 88 --><a name="Page_88"></a>to his heart.
+Could they have outridden the gelding to such an extent as that?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;From Tomo?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Tomo? No. They come down from Gunter City, up yonder, and Twin Falls.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Andrew understood. Well indeed had Hal Dozier fulfilled his threat
+of rousing the mountains against this quarry. He glanced westward. It
+was yet an hour lacking of sundown, but since mid-morning Dozier had
+been able to send his messages so far and so wide. Andrew set his teeth.
+What did cunning of head and speed of horse count against the law when
+the law had electricity for its agent?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; said Andrew, slipping from his saddle, &quot;if he hasn't been by
+this way I may as well stay over for the night. If they've hunted the
+woods around here all day, no use in me doing it by night. Can you
+put me up?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Can I put you up? I'll tell a man. Glad to have you, stranger. Gimme
+your hoss. I'll take care of him. Looks like he was kind of ganted up,
+don't it? Well, I'll give him a feed of oats that'll thicken his ribs.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Still talking, he led the gelding into his shed. Andrew followed, took
+off the saddle, and, having led the chestnut out and down to the creek
+for a drink, he returned and tied him to a manger which the trapper had
+filled with a liberal supply of hay, to say nothing of a feed box
+stuffed with oats.</p>
+
+<p>A man who was kind to a horse could not be treacherous to a man, Andrew
+decided.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're Hank Rainer, aren't you?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's me. And you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm the unwelcome guest, I'm afraid,&quot; said Andrew. &quot;I'm the nephew of
+Jasper Lanning. I guess you'll be remembering him?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll forget my right hand sooner,&quot; said the big, red man calmly. But he
+kept on looking steadily at Andrew.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; said Andrew, encouraged and at the same time <!-- Page 89 --><a name="Page_89"></a>repulsed by this
+calm silence, &quot;my name is one you've heard. I am&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The other broke in hastily. &quot;You are Jasper Lanning's nephew. That's all
+I know. What's a name to me? I don't want to know names!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It puzzled Andrew, but the big man ran on smoothly enough: &quot;Lanning
+ain't a popular name around here, you see? Suppose somebody was to come
+around and say, 'Seen Lanning?' What could I say, if you was here? 'I've
+got a Lanning here. I dunno but he's the one you want.' But suppose I
+don't know anything except you're Jasper's nephew? Maybe you're related
+on the mother's side. Eh?&quot; He winked at Andrew. &quot;You come along and
+don't talk too much about names.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He led the way into the house and picked up one of the posters, which
+lay on the floor.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They've sent those through the mountains already?&quot; asked Andrew
+gloomily.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sure! These come down from Twin Falls. Now, a gent with special fine
+eyes might find that you looked like the gent on this poster. But my
+eyes are terrible bad mostly. Besides, I need to quicken up that fire.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He crumpled the poster and inserted it beneath the lid of his iron
+stove. There was a rush and faint roar of the flame up the chimney as
+the cardboard burned. &quot;And now,&quot; said Hank Rainer, turning with a broad
+smile, &quot;I guess they ain't any reason why I should recognize you. You're
+just a plain stranger comin' along and you stop over here for the night.
+That all?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Andrew had followed this involved reasoning with a rather bewildered
+mind, but he smiled faintly in return. He was bothered, in a way, by the
+extreme mental caution of this fellow. It was as if the keen-eyed
+trapper were more interested in his own foolish little subterfuge than
+in preserving Andrew. &quot;<!-- Page 90 --><a name="Page_90"></a>Now, tell me, how is Jasper?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've got to tell you one thing first. Dozier has raised the mountains,
+and I could never cross 'em now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Going to turn back into the plains?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No. The ranges are wide enough, but they're a prison just the same.
+I've got to get out of 'em now or stay a prisoner the rest of my life,
+only to be trailed down in the end. No, I want to stay right here in
+your cabin until the men are quieted down again and think I've slipped
+away from 'em. Then I'll sneak over the summit and get away unnoticed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Man, man! Stay here? Why, they'll find you right off. I wonder you got
+the nerve to sit there now with maybe ten men trailin' you to this
+cabin. But that's up to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a certain careless calm about this that shook Andrew to his
+center again. But he countered: &quot;No, they won't look specially in
+houses. Because they won't figure that any man would toss up that
+reward. Five thousand is a pile of money.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It sure is,&quot; agreed the other. He parted his red beard and looked up to
+the ceiling. &quot;Five thousand is a considerable pile, all in hard cash.
+But mostly they hunt for this Andrew Lanning a dozen at a time. Well,
+you divide five thousand by ten, and you've got only five hundred left.
+That ain't enough to tempt a man to give up Lanning&mdash;so bad as
+all that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah,&quot; smiled Andrew, &quot;but you don't understand what a stake you could
+make out of me. If you were to give information about me being here, and
+you brought a posse to get me, you'd come in for at least half of the
+reward. Besides, the five thousand isn't all. There's at least one rich
+gent that'll contribute maybe that much more. And you'd get a good half
+of that. You see, Hal Dozier knows all that, and he knows there's hardly
+a man in the mountains who would be able to keep away <!-- Page 91 --><a name="Page_91"></a>from selling me.
+So that's why he won't search the houses.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not you,&quot; corrected the trapper sharply. &quot;Andy Lanning is the man
+Dozier wants.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, Andrew Lanning, then,&quot; smiled the guest. &quot;It was just a slip of
+the tongue.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sometimes slips like that break a man's neck,&quot; observed the trapper,
+and he fell into a gloomy meditation.</p>
+
+<p>And after that they talked of other things, until supper was cooked and
+eaten and the tin dishes washed and put away. Then they lay in their
+bunks and watched the last color in the west through the open door.</p>
+
+<p>If a member of a posse had come to the door, the first thing his eyes
+fell upon would have been Andrew Lanning lying on the floor on one side
+of the room and the red-bearded man on the other. But, though his host
+suggested this, Andrew refused to move his blankets. And he was right.
+The hunters were roving the open, and even Hal Dozier was at fault.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Because,&quot; said Andrew, &quot;he doesn't dream that I could have a friend so
+far from home. Not five thousand dollars' worth of friend, anyway.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And the trapper grunted heavily.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 20</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>It was a truth long after wondered at, when the story of Andrew Lanning
+was told and retold, that he had lain in perfect security within a
+six-hour ride from Tomo, while Hal Dozier himself combed the mountains
+and hundreds more were out hunting fame and fortune. To be sure, when a
+stranger approached, Andrew always withdrew into the <!-- Page 92 --><a name="Page_92"></a>horse shed; but,
+beyond keeping up a steady watch during the day, he had little to do and
+little to fear.</p>
+
+<p>Indeed, at night he made no pretense toward concealment, but slept quite
+openly on the floor on the bed of hay and blankets, just as Hank Rainer
+slept on the farther side of the room. And the great size of the reward
+was the very thing that kept him safe. For when men passed the cabin, as
+they often did, they were riding hard to get away from Tomo and into the
+higher mountains, where the outlaw might be, or else they were coming
+back to rest up, and their destination in such a case was always Tomo.
+The cabin of the trapper was just near enough to the town to escape
+being used as a shelter for the night by stray travelers. If they got
+that close, they went on to the hotel.</p>
+
+<p>But often they paused long enough to pass a word with Hank, and Andrew,
+from his place behind the door of the horse shed, could hear it all. He
+could even look through a crack and see the faces of the strangers. They
+told how Tomo was wrought to a pitch of frenzied interest by this
+manhunt. Well-to-do citizens, feeling that the outlaw had insulted the
+town by so boldly venturing into it, had raised a considerable
+contribution toward the reward. Other prominent miners and cattlemen of
+the district had come forward with similar offers, and every day the
+price on the head of Andrew mounted to a more tempting figure.</p>
+
+<p>It was a careless time for Andrew. After that escape from Tomo he was
+not apt to be perturbed by his present situation, but the suspense
+seemed to weigh more and more heavily upon the trapper. Hank Rainer was
+so troubled, indeed, that Andrew sometimes surprised a half-guilty,
+half-sly expression in the eyes of his host. He decided that Hank was
+anxious for the day to come when Andrew would ride off and take his
+perilous company elsewhere. He even broached the subject to Hank, but
+the mountaineer flushed and discarded the suggestion with a wave of his
+hand. &quot;<!-- Page 93 --><a name="Page_93"></a>But if a gang of 'em should ever hunt me down, even in your
+cabin, Hank,&quot; said Andrew one day&mdash;it was the third day of his
+stay&mdash;&quot;I'll never forget what you've done for me, and one of these days
+I'll see that Uncle Jasper finds out about it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The little, pale-blue eyes of the trapper went swiftly to and fro, as if
+he sought escape from this embarrassing gratitude.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; said he, &quot;I've been thinkin' that the man that gets you, Andy,
+won't be so sure with his money, after all. He'll have your Uncle Jasper
+on his trail pronto, and Jasper used to be a killer with a gun in the
+old days.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No more,&quot; smiled Andrew. &quot;He's still steady as a rock, but he hasn't
+the speed any more. He's over seventy, you see. His joints sort of creak
+when he tries to move with a snap.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah,&quot; muttered the trapper, and again, as he started through the open
+door, &quot;Ah!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then he added: &quot;Well, son, you don't need Jasper. If half what they say
+is true, you're a handy lad with the guns. I suppose Jasper showed you
+his tricks?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, and we worked out some new ones together. Uncle Jasper raised me
+with a gun in my hand, you might say.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;H'm!&quot; said Hank Rainer.</p>
+
+<p>When they were sitting at the door in the semidusk, he reverted to the
+idea. &quot;You been seein' that squirrel that's been runnin' across the
+clearin'?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'd like to see you work your gun, Andy. It was a sight to talk about
+to watch Jasper, and I'm thinkin' you could go him one better. S'pose
+you stand up there in the door with your back to the clearin'. The next
+time that squirrel comes scootin' across I'll say, 'Now!' and you try to
+turn and get your gun on him before he's out of sight. Will you
+try that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Suppose some one hears it?&quot; &quot;<!-- Page 94 --><a name="Page_94"></a>Oh, they're used to me pluggin' away for
+fun over here. Besides, they ain't anybody lives in hearin'.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Andrew, falling into the spirit of the contest, stood up in the
+door, and the old tingle of nerves, which never failed to come over him
+in the crisis, was thrilling through his body again. Then Hank barked
+the word, &quot;Now!&quot; and Andrew whirled on his heel. The word had served to
+alarm the squirrel as well. As he heard it, he twisted about like the
+snapping lash of a whip and darted back for cover, three yards away. He
+covered that distance like a little gray streak in the shadow, but
+before he reached it the gun spoke, and the forty-five-caliber slug
+struck him in the middle and tore him in two. Andrew, hearing a sharp
+crackling, looked down at his host and observed that the trapper had
+bitten clean through the stem of his corncob.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That,&quot; said the red man huskily, &quot;is some shootin'.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But he did not look up, and he did not smile. And it troubled Andrew to
+hear this rather grudging praise.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime, three days had put the gelding in very fair condition.
+He was enough mustang to recuperate swiftly, and that morning he had
+tried with hungry eagerness to kick the head from Andrew's shoulders.
+This had decided the outlaw. Besides, in the last day there had been
+fewer and fewer riders up and down the ravine, and apparently the hunt
+for Andrew Lanning had journeyed to another part of the mountains. It
+seemed an excellent time to begin his journey again, and he told the
+trapper his decision to start on at dusk the next day.</p>
+
+<p>The announcement brought with it a long and thoughtful pause.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wisht I could send you on your way with somethin' worthwhile,&quot; said
+Hank Rainer at length. &quot;But I ain't rich. I've lived plain and worked
+hard, but I ain't rich. So what I can give you, Andy, won't be much.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Andrew protested that the hospitality had been more <!-- Page 95 --><a name="Page_95"></a>than a generous
+gift, but Hank Rainer, looking straight out the door, continued: &quot;Well,
+I'm goin' down the road to get you my little gift, Andy. Be back in an
+hour maybe.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'd rather have you here to keep me from being lonely,&quot; said Andrew.
+&quot;I've money enough to buy what I want, but money will never buy me the
+talk of an honest man, Hank.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The other started. &quot;Honest enough, maybe,&quot; he said bitterly. &quot;But
+honesty don't get you bread or bacon, not in this world!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And presently he stamped into the shed, saddled his pony, and after a
+moment was scattering the pebbles on the way down the ravine. The dark
+and silence gathered over Andrew Lanning. He had little warmth of
+feeling for Hank Rainer, to be sure, but the hush of the cabin he looked
+forward to many a long evening and many a long day in a silence like
+this, with no man near him. For the man who rides outside the law
+rides alone.</p>
+
+<p>He could have embraced the big man, therefore, when Hank finally came
+back, and Andrew could hear the pony panting in the shed, a sure sign
+that it had been ridden hard.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It ain't much,&quot; said Hank, &quot;but it's yours, and I hope you get a chance
+to use it in a pinch.&quot; And he dumped down a case of.45 cartridges.</p>
+
+<p>After all, there could have been no gift more to the point, but it gave
+Andrew a little chill of distaste, this reminder of the life that lay
+ahead of him. And in spite of himself he could not break the silence
+that began to settle over the cabin again. Finally Hank announced that
+it was bedtime for him, and, preparing himself by the simple expedient
+of kicking off his boots and then drawing off his trousers, he slipped
+into his blankets, twisted them tightly around his broad shoulders with
+a single turn of his body, and was instantly snoring. Andrew followed
+that example more slowly. <!-- Page 96 --><a name="Page_96"></a>Not since he left Martindale, however, had he
+slept soundly. Take a tame dog into the wilderness and he learns to
+sleep like a wolf quickly enough; and Andrew, with mind and nerve
+constantly set for action like a cocked revolver, had learned to sleep
+like a wild thing in turn. And accordingly, when he wakened in the
+middle of the night, he was alert on the instant. He had a singular
+feeling that someone had been looking at him while he slept.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 21</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>First of all, naturally, he looked at the door. It was now a bright
+rectangle filled with moonlight and quite empty. There must have been a
+sound, and he glanced over to the trapper for an explanation. But Hank
+Rainer lay twisted closely in his blankets.</p>
+
+<p>Andrew raised upon one elbow and thought. It troubled him&mdash;the insistent
+feeling of the eyes which had been upon him. They had burned their way
+into his dreams with a bright insistence.</p>
+
+<p>He looked again, and, having formed the habit of photographing things
+with one glance, he compared what he saw now with what he had last seen
+when he fell asleep. It tallied in every detail except one. The trousers
+which had lain on the floor beside Hank's bed were no longer there.</p>
+
+<p>It was a little thing, of course, but Andrew closed his eyes to make
+sure. Yes, he could even remember the gesture with which the trapper had
+tossed down the trousers to the floor. Andrew sat up in bed noiselessly.
+He slipped to the door and flashed one glance up and down. Below him the
+hillside was bright beneath the moon. The far side of the ravine was
+doubly black in shadow. <!-- Page 97 --><a name="Page_97"></a>But nothing lived, nothing moved. And then
+again he felt the eye upon him. He whirled. &quot;Hank!&quot; he called softly.
+And he saw the slightest start as he spoke. &quot;Hank!&quot; he repeated in the
+same tone, and the trapper stretched his arms, yawned heavily, and
+turned. &quot;Well, lad?&quot; he inquired.</p>
+
+<p>But Andrew knew that he had been heard the first time, and he felt that
+this pretended slow awakening was too elaborate to be true. He went back
+to his own bed and began to dress rapidly. In the meantime the trapper
+was staring stupidly at him and asking what was wrong.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Something mighty queer,&quot; said Andrew. &quot;Must have been a coyote in here
+that sneaked off with your trousers, unless you have 'em on.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Just a touch of pause, then the other replied through a yawn: &quot;Sure, I
+got 'em on. Had to get up in the night, and I was too plumb sleepy to
+take 'em off again when I come back.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah,&quot; said Andrew, &quot;I see.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He stepped to the door into the horse shed and paused; there was no
+sound. He opened the door and stepped in quickly. Both horses were on
+the ground, asleep, but he took the gelding by the nose, to muffle a
+grunt as he rose, and brought him to his feet. Then, still softly and
+swiftly, he lifted the saddle from its peg and put it on its back. One
+long draw made the cinches taut. He fastened the straps, and then went
+to the little window behind the horse, through which had come the vague
+and glimmering light by which he did the saddling. Now he scanned the
+trees on the edge of the clearing with painful anxiety. Once he thought
+that he heard a voice, but it was only the moan of one branch against
+another as the wind bent some tree. He stepped back from the window and
+rubbed his knuckles across his forehead, obviously puzzled. It might be
+that, after all, he was wrong. So he turned back once more <!-- Page 98 --><a name="Page_98"></a>toward the
+main room of the cabin to make sure. Instead of opening the door softly,
+as a suspicious man will, he cast it open with a sudden push of his
+foot; the hulk of Hank Rainer turned at the opposite door, and the big
+man staggered as though he had been struck.</p>
+
+<p>It might have been caused by his swift right-about face, throwing him
+off his balance, but it was more probably the shock that came from
+facing a revolver in the hand of Andrew. The gun was at his hip. It had
+come into his hand with a nervous flip of the fingers as rapid as the
+gesture of the card expert.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come back,&quot; said Andrew. &quot;Talk soft, step soft. Now, Hank, what made
+you do it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The red hair of the other was burning faintly in the moonlight, and it
+went out as he stepped from the door into the middle of the room, his
+finger tips brushing the ceiling above him. And Andrew, peering through
+that shadow, saw two little, bright eyes, like the eyes of a beast,
+twinkling out at him from the mass of hair.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When you went after the shells for me, Hank,&quot; he stated, &quot;you gave the
+word that I was here. Then you told the gent that took the message to
+spread it around&mdash;to get it to Hal Dozier, if possible&mdash;to have the men
+come back here. You'd go out, when I was sound asleep, and tell them
+when they could rush me. Is that straight?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was no answer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Speak out! I feel like shovin' this gun down your throat, Hank, but I
+won't if you speak out and tell me the truth.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Whatever other failings might be his, there was no great cowardice in
+Hank Rainer. His arms remained above his head and his little eyes
+burned. That was all.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; said Andrew, &quot;I think you've got me, Hank. I suppose I ought to
+send you to death before me, but, to tell you the straight of it, I'm
+not going to, because I'm sort of sick. Sick, you understand? Tell me
+one thing&mdash;are the <!-- Page 99 --><a name="Page_99"></a>boys here yet? Are they scattered around the edge of
+the clearing, or are they on the way? Hank, was it worth five thousand
+to double-cross a gent that's your guest&mdash;a fellow that's busted bread
+with you, bunked in the same room with you? And even when they've
+drilled me clean, and you've got the reward, don't you know that you'll
+be a skunk among real men from this time on? Did you figure on that when
+you sold me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The hands of Hank Rainer fell suddenly, but now lower than his beard.
+The fingers thrust at his throat&mdash;he seemed to be tearing his own flesh.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pull the trigger, Andy,&quot; he said. &quot;Go on. I ain't fit to live.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why did you do it, Hank?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wanted a new set of traps, Andy; that was what I wanted. I'd been
+figurin' and schemin' all autumn how to get my traps before the winter
+comes on. My own wasn't any good. Then I seen that fur coat of yours. It
+set me thinking about what I could do if I had some honest-to-goodness
+traps with springs in 'em that would hold&mdash;and&mdash;I stood it as long as
+I could.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>While he spoke, Andrew looked past him, through the door. All the world
+was silver beyond. The snow had been falling, and on the first great
+peak there was a glint of the white, very pure and chill against the
+sky. The very air was keen and sweet. Ah, it was a world to live in, and
+he was not ready to die!</p>
+
+<p>He looked back to Hank Rainer. &quot;Hank, my time was sure to come sooner or
+later, but I'm not ready to die. I'm&mdash;I'm too young, Hank.
+Well, good-by!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He found gigantic arms spreading before him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Andy,&quot; insisted the big man, &quot;it ain't too late for me to double-cross
+'em. Let me go out first and you come straight behind me. They won't
+fire; they'll think I've got a new plan for givin' you up. When we get
+to the circle of 'em, because <!-- Page 100 --><a name="Page_100"></a>they're all round the cabin, we'll drive
+at 'em together. Come on!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wait a minute. Is Hal Dozier out there?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes. Oh, go on and curse me, Andy. I'm cursin' myself!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If he's there, it's no use. But there's no use two dyin' when I try to
+get through. Only one thing, Hank; if you want to keep your self-respect
+don't take the reward money.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll see it burn first, and I'm goin' with you, Andy!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You stay where you are; this is my party. Before the finish of the
+dance I'm going to see if some of those sneaks out yonder, lyin' so
+snug, won't like to step right out and do a caper with me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And before the trapper could make a protest he had drawn back into the
+horse shed.</p>
+
+<p>There he led the chestnut to the door, and, looking through the crack,
+he scanned the surface of the ground. It was sadly broken and chopped
+with rocks, but the gelding might make headway fast enough. It was a
+short distance to the trees&mdash;twenty-five to forty yards, perhaps. And if
+he burst out of that shed on the back of the horse, spurred to full
+speed, he might take the watchers, who perhaps expected a signal from
+the trapper before they acted, quite unawares, and he would be among the
+sheltering shadows of the forest while the posse was getting up
+its guns.</p>
+
+<p>There was an equally good chance that he would ride straight into a nest
+of the waiting men, and, even if he reached the forest, he would be
+riddled with bullets.</p>
+
+<p>Now, all these thoughts and all this weighing of the chances occupied
+perhaps half a second, while Andrew stood looking through the crack.
+Then he swung into the saddle, leaning far over to the side so that he
+would have clearance under the doorway, kicked open the swinging door,
+and sent the chestnut leaping into the night.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><!-- Page 101 --><a name="Page_101"></a>CHAPTER 22</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>If only the night had been dark, if the gelding had had a fair start;
+but the moon was bright, and in the thin mountain air it made a radiance
+almost as keen as day and just sufficiently treacherous to delude a
+horse, which had been sent unexpectedly out among rocks by a cruel pair
+of spurs. At the end of the first leap the gelding stumbled to his knees
+with a crash and snort among the stones. The shock hurled Andrew
+forward, but he clung with spurs and hand, and as he twisted back into
+the saddle the gelding rose valiantly and lurched ahead again.</p>
+
+<p>Yet that double sound might have roused an army, and for the keen-eared
+watchers around the clearing it was more than an ample warning. There
+was a crash of musketry so instant and so close together that it was
+like a volley delivered by a line of soldiers at command. Bullets sang
+shrill and small around Andrew, but that first discharge had been a
+burst of snap-shooting, and by moonlight it takes a rare man indeed to
+make an accurate snapshot. The first discharge left both Andrew and the
+horse untouched, and for the moment the wild hope of unexpected success
+was raised in his heart. And he had noted one all-important fact&mdash;the
+flashes, widely scattered as they were, did not extend across the exact
+course of his flight toward the trees. Therefore, none of the posse
+would have a point-blank shot at him. For those in the rear and on the
+sides the weaving course of the gelding, running like a deer and
+swerving agilely among the rocks, as if to make up for his first
+blunder, offered the most difficult of all targets.</p>
+
+<p>All this in only the space of a breath, yet the ground was already
+crossed and the trees were before him when Andrew <!-- Page 102 --><a name="Page_102"></a>saw a ray of
+moonlight flash on the long barrel of rifle to his right, and he knew
+that one man at least was taking a deliberate aim. He had his revolver
+on the fellow in the instant, and yet he held his fire. God willing, he
+would come back to Anne Withero with no more stains on his hands!</p>
+
+<p>And that noble, boyish impulse killed the chestnut, for a moment later a
+stream of fire spouted out, long and thin, from the muzzle of the rifle,
+and the gelding struck at the end of a stride, like a ship going down in
+the sea; his limbs seemed to turn to tallow under him, and he crumpled
+on the ground.</p>
+
+<p>The fall flung Andrew clean out of the saddle; he landed on his knees
+and leaped for the woods, but now there was a steady roar of guns behind
+him. He was struck heavily behind the left shoulder, staggered.
+Something gashed his neck like the edge of a red-hot knife, his whole
+left side was numb.</p>
+
+<p>And then the merciful dark of the trees closed around him.</p>
+
+<p>For fifty yards he raced through an opening in the trees, while a
+yelling like wild Indians rose behind him; then he leaped into cover and
+waited. One thing favored him still. They had not brought horses, or at
+least they had left their mounts at some distance, for fear of the
+chance noises they might make when the cabin was stalked. And now,
+looking down the lane among the trees, he saw men surge into it.</p>
+
+<p>All his left side was covered with a hot bath, but, balancing his
+revolver in his right hand, he felt a queer touch of joy and pride at
+finding his nerve still unshaken. He raised the weapon, covered their
+bodies, and then something like an invisible hand forced down the muzzle
+of his gun. He could not shoot to kill!</p>
+
+<p>He did what was perhaps better; he fired at that mass of legs, and even
+a child could not have failed to strike the <!-- Page 103 --><a name="Page_103"></a>target. Once, twice, and
+again; then the crowd melted to either side of the path, and there was a
+shrieking and forms twisting and writhing on the ground.</p>
+
+<p>Some one was shouting orders from the side; he was ordering them to the
+right and left to surround the fugitive; he was calling out that Lanning
+was hit. At least, they would go with caution down his trail after that
+first check. He left his sheltering tree and ran again down the ravine.</p>
+
+<p>By this time the first shock of the wounds and the numbness were leaving
+him, but the pain was terrible. Yet he knew that he was not fatally
+injured if he could stop that mortal drain of his wounds.</p>
+
+<p>He heard the pursuit in the distance more and more. Every now and then
+there was a spasmodic outburst of shooting, and Andrew grinned in spite
+of his pain. They were closing around the place where they thought he
+was making his last stand, shooting at shadows which might be the man
+they wanted.</p>
+
+<p>Then he stopped, tore off his shirt, and ripped it with his right hand
+and his teeth into strips. He tied one around his neck, knotting it
+until he could only draw his breath with difficulty. Several more strips
+he tied together, and then wound the long bandage around his shoulder
+and pulled. The pain brought him close to a swoon, but when his senses
+cleared he found that the flow from his wounds had eased.</p>
+
+<p>But not entirely. There was still some of that deadly trickling down his
+side, and, with the chill of the night biting into him, he knew that it
+was life or death to him if he could reach some friendly house within
+the next two miles. There was only one dwelling straight before him, and
+that was the house of the owner of the bay mare. They would doubtless
+turn him over to the posse instantly. But there was one chance in a
+hundred that they would not break the immemorial rule of mountain
+hospitality. For <!-- Page 104 --><a name="Page_104"></a>Andrew there was no hope except that tenuous one.</p>
+
+<p>The rest of that walk became a nightmare. He was not sure whether he
+heard the yell of rage and disappointment behind him as the posse
+discovered that the bird had flown or whether the sound existed only in
+his own ringing head. But one thing was certain&mdash;they would not trail
+Andrew Lanning recklessly in the night, not even with the moon to
+help them.</p>
+
+<p>So he plodded steadily on. If it had not been for that ceaseless drip he
+would have taken the long chance and broken for the mountains above him,
+trying through many a long day ahead to cure the wounds and in some
+manner sustain his life. But the drain continued. It was hardly more
+than drop by drop, but all the time a telltale weakness was growing in
+his legs. In spite of the agony he was sleepy, and he would have liked
+to drop on the first mat of leaves that he found.</p>
+
+<p>That crazy temptation he brushed away, and went on until surely, like a
+star of hope, he saw the light winking feebly through the trees, and
+then came out on the cabin.</p>
+
+<p>He remembered afterward that even in his dazed condition he was
+disappointed because of the neat, crisp, appearance of the house. There
+must be women there, and women meant screams, horror, betrayal.</p>
+
+<p>But there was no other hope for him now. Twice, as he crossed the
+clearing before he reached the door of the cabin, his foot struck a rock
+and he pitched weakly forward, with only the crumbling strength of his
+right arm to keep him from striking on his face. Then there was a
+furious clamor and a huge dog rushed at him.</p>
+
+<p>He heeded it only with a glance from the corner of his eye. And then,
+his dull brain clearing, he realized that the dog no longer howled at
+him or showed his teeth, but was walking beside him, licking his hand
+and whining with sympathy. <!-- Page 105 --><a name="Page_105"></a>He dropped again, and this time he could
+never have regained his feet had not his right arm flopped helplessly
+across the back of the big dog, and the beast cowered and growled, but
+it did not attempt to slide from under his weight.</p>
+
+<p>He managed to get erect again, but when he reached the low flight of
+steps to the front door he was reeling drunkenly from side to side. He
+fumbled for the knob, and it turned with a grating sound.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hold on! Keep out!&quot; shrilled a voice inside. &quot;We got guns here. Keep
+out, you dirty bum!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The door fell open, and he found himself confronted by what seemed to
+him a dazzling torrent of light and a host of human faces. He drew
+himself up beside the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gentlemen,&quot; said Andrew, &quot;I am not a bum. I am worth five thousand
+dollars to the man who turns me over, dead or alive, to the sheriff. My
+name is Andrew Lanning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At that the faces became a terrible rushing and circling flare, and the
+lights went out with equal suddenness. He was left in total darkness,
+falling through space; but, at his last moment of consciousness, he felt
+arms going about him, arms through which his bulk kept slipping down,
+and below him was a black abyss.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 23</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>It was a very old man who held, or tried to hold, Andrew from falling to
+the floor. His shoulders shook under the burden of the outlaw, and the
+burden, indeed, would have slumped brutally to the floor, had not the
+small ten-year-old boy, whom Andrew had seen on the bay mare, come
+running in under the arms of the old man. With his meager <!-- Page 106 --><a name="Page_106"></a>strength he
+assisted, and the two managed to lower the body gently.</p>
+
+<p>The boy was frightened. He was white at the sight of the wounds, and the
+freckles stood out in copper patches from his pallor.</p>
+
+<p>Now he clung to the old man.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Granddad, it's the gent that tried to buy Sally!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The old man had produced a murderous jackknife with a blade that had
+been ground away to the disappearing point by years of steady grinding.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Get some wood in the stove,&quot; he commanded. &quot;Fire her up, quick. Put on
+some water. Easy, lad!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The room became a place of turmoil with the clatter of the stove lids
+being raised, the clangor of the kettle being filled and put in place.
+By the time the fire was roaring and the boy had turned, he found the
+bandages had been taken from the body of the stranger and his
+grandfather was studying the smeared naked torso with a sort of
+detached, philosophic interest. With the thumb and forefinger of his
+left hand he was pressing deeply into the left shoulder of Andrew.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, there's an arm for you, Jud,&quot; said the old man. &quot;See them long,
+stringy muscles in the forearm? If you grow up and have muscles like
+them, you can call yourself a man. And you see the way his stomach caves
+in? Aye, that's a sign! And the way his ribs sticks out&mdash;and just feel
+them muscles on the point of his shoulder&mdash;Oh, Jud, he would of made a
+prime wrestler, this fine bird of ours!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's like touchin' somethin' dead, granddad,&quot; said the boy. &quot;I don't
+dast to do it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Jud, they's some times when I just about want to give you up! Dead? He
+ain't nowheres near dead. Just bled a bit, that's all. Two as pretty
+little wounds as was ever drilled clean by a powerful rifle at short
+range. Dead? Why, inside two weeks he'll be fit as a fiddle, and inside
+a month he'll <!-- Page 107 --><a name="Page_107"></a>be his own self! Dead! Jud, you make me tired! Gimme
+that water.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He went to work busily. Out of a sort of first-aid chest he took
+homemade bandages and, after cleansing the wounds, he began to dress
+them carefully.</p>
+
+<p>He talked with every movement.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So this here is the lion, is it?&quot; nodded granddad. &quot;This here is the
+ravenin', tearin', screechin' man-eater? Why, he looks mostly plain
+kid to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He&mdash;he's been shot, ain't he, granddad?&quot; asked the child in a whisper.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, boy, I'd say that the lion had been chawed up considerable&mdash;by
+dogs.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He pointed. &quot;See them holes? The big one in front? That means they
+sneaked up behind him and shot him while his back was turned.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's wakin' up, granddad,&quot; said Jud, more frightened than before.</p>
+
+<p>The eyes of Andrew were indeed opening.</p>
+
+<p>He smiled up at them. &quot;Uncle Jas,&quot; he said, &quot;I don't like to fight. It
+makes me sick inside, to fight.&quot; He closed his eyes again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, now, now!&quot; murmured Pop. &quot;This boy has a way with him. And he
+killed Bill Dozier, did he? Son, gimme the whisky.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He poured a little down the throat of the wounded man, and Andrew
+frowned and opened his eyes again: He was conscious at last.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think I've seen you before,&quot; he said calmly. &quot;Are you one of the
+posse?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The old man stiffened a little. A spot of red glowed on his withered
+cheek and went out like a snuffed light.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Young feller,&quot; said the old man, &quot;when I go huntin' I go alone. You
+write that down in red, and don't forget it. <!-- Page 108 --><a name="Page_108"></a>I ain't ever been a member
+of no posse. Look around and see yourself to home.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Andrew raised his head a little and made out the neat room. It showed,
+as even his fading senses had perceived when he saw the house first, a
+touch of almost feminine care. The floor was scrubbed to whiteness, the
+very stove was burnished.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I remember,&quot; said Andrew faintly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You did see me before,&quot; said the other, &quot;when you rode into Tomo. I
+seen you and you seen me. We changed looks, so to speak. And now you've
+dropped in to call on me. I'm goin' to put you up in the attic. Gimme a
+hand to straighten him up, Jud.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>With Jud's help and the last remnant of Andrew's strength they managed
+to get him to his feet, and then he partly climbed, partly was pushed by
+Jud, and partly was dragged by the old man up a ladder to the loft. It
+was quite cool there, very dark, and the air came in through
+two windows.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ain't very sociable to put a guest in the attic,&quot; said Pop, between his
+panting breaths. &quot;But a public character like you, Lanning, will have a
+consid'able pile of callers askin' after you. Terrible jarrin' to the
+nerves when folks come in and call on a sick man. You lie here and
+rest easy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He went down the ladder and came back dragging a mattress. There, by the
+light of a lantern, he and Jud made Andrew as comfortable as possible.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You mean to keep me here?&quot; asked the outlaw.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Long as you feel like restin',&quot; answered the old man.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You can make about&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Stop that fool talk about what I can make out of you. How come it you
+stayed so close to Tomo? Where was you lyin' low? In the hills?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not far away.&quot; &quot;<!-- Page 109 --><a name="Page_109"></a>And they smelled you out?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A man I thought was my friend&mdash;&quot; Andrew clicked his teeth shut.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You was sold, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I made a mistake.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;H'm,&quot; was the other's comment. &quot;Well, you forget about that and go to
+sleep. I got a few little attentions to pay to that posse. It'll be here
+r'arin' before tomorrer. Sleep tight, partner.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He climbed down the ladder and looked around the room. Jud, his freckles
+still looking like spots of mud or rust, his eyes popping, stood silent.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm glad of that,&quot; said the old man, with a sigh.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What, granddad?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're like a girl, Jud. Takes a sight to make you reasonable quiet.
+But look yonder. Them spots look tolerable like red paint, don't they?
+Well, we got to get 'em off.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll heat some more water,&quot; suggested Jud.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You do nothing of the kind. You get them two butcher knives out of the
+table drawer and we'll scrape off the wood, because you can't wash that
+stain out'n a floor.&quot; He looked suddenly at Jud with a glint in his
+eyes. &quot;I know, because I've tried it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For several minutes they scraped hard at the floor until the last
+vestige of the fresh stains was gone. Then the old man went outside and,
+coming back with a handful of sand, rubbed it in carefully over the
+scraped places. When this was swept away the floor presented no
+suspicious traces.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But,&quot; he exclaimed suddenly, &quot;I forgot. I plumb forgot. He's been
+leakin' all the way here, and when the sun comes up they'll foller him
+that easy by the sign. Jud, we're beat!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They dropped, as at a signal, into two opposite chairs, and sat staring
+gloomily at each other. The old man looked simply sad and weary, but the
+color came and went in the face of Jud. And then, like a light, an idea
+dawned in the <!-- Page 110 --><a name="Page_110"></a>face of the child. He got up from his chair, lighted a
+lantern, and went outside. His grandfather observed this without comment
+or suggestion, but, when Jud was gone, he observed to himself: &quot;Jud
+takes after me. He's got thoughts. And them was things his ma and pa was
+never bothered with.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 24</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>The thought of Jud now took him up the back trail of Andrew Lanning. He
+leaned far over with the lantern, studying with intense interest every
+place where the wounds of the injured man might have left telltale
+stains on the rocks or the grass. When he had apparently satisfied
+himself of this, he turned and ran at full speed back to the house and
+went up the ladder to Andrew. There he took the boots&mdash;they were
+terribly stained, he saw&mdash;and drew them on.</p>
+
+<p>The loose boots and the unaccustomed weights tangled his feet sadly, as
+he went on down the ladder, but he said not a word to his grandfather,
+who was far too dignified to make a comment on the borrowed footgear.</p>
+
+<p>Again outside with his lantern, the boy took out his pocket-knife and
+felt the small blade. It was of a razor keenness. Then he went through
+the yard behind the house to the big henhouse, where the chickens sat
+perched in dense rows. He raised his lantern; at once scores of tiny,
+bright eyes flashed back at him.</p>
+
+<p>But Jud, with a twisted face of determination, kept on with his survey
+until he saw the red comb and the arched tail plumes of a large Plymouth
+Rock rooster.</p>
+
+<p>It was a familiar sight to Jud. Of all the chickens on the <!-- Page 111 --><a name="Page_111"></a>place this
+was his peculiar property. And now he had determined to sacrifice this
+dearest of pets.</p>
+
+<p>The old rooster was so accustomed to his master, indeed, that he allowed
+himself to be taken from the perch without a single squawk, and the boy
+took his captive beyond the pen. Once, when the big rooster canted his
+head and looked into his face, the boy had to wink away the tears; but
+he thought of the man so near death in the attic, he felt the clumsy
+boots on his feet, and his heart grew strong again.</p>
+
+<p>He went around to the front of the house and by the steps he fastened on
+the long neck of his prisoner a grasp strong enough to keep him silent
+for a moment. Then he cut the rooster's breast deeply, shuddering as he
+felt the knife take hold.</p>
+
+<p>Something trickled warmly over his hands. Dropping his knife in his
+pocket, Jud started, walked with steps as long as he could make them. He
+went, with the spurs chinking to keep time for each stride, straight
+toward a cliff some hundreds of yards from the house. The blood ran
+freely. The old rooster, feeling himself sicken, sank weakly against the
+breast of the boy, and Jud thought that his heart would break. He
+reached the sharp edge of the cliff and heard the rush of the little
+river far below him. At the same time his captive gave one final flutter
+of the wings, one feeble crow, and was dead.</p>
+
+<p>Jud waited until the tears had cleared from his eyes. Then he took off
+the boots, and, in bare feet that would leave no trace on the rocks, he
+skirted swiftly back to the house, put the dead body back in the chicken
+yard, and returned to his grandfather.</p>
+
+<p>There was one great satisfaction for him that evening, one reward for
+the great sacrifice, and it came immediately. While the old man stood
+trembling before him, Jud told his story.</p>
+
+<p>It was a rich feast indeed to see the relief, the astonishment, <!-- Page 112 --><a name="Page_112"></a>the
+pride come in swift turns upon that grim old face.</p>
+
+<p>And yet in the end Pop was able to muster a fairly good imitation of a
+frown.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And here you come back with a shirt and a pair of trousers plumb
+spoiled by all your gallivantin',&quot; he said, &quot;not speakin' of a perfectly
+good chicken killed. Ain't you never goin' to get grown up, Jud?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He was mine, the chicken I killed,&quot; said Jud, choking.</p>
+
+<p>It brought a pause upon the talk. The other was forced to wink both eyes
+at once and sigh.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The big speckled feller?&quot; he asked more gently.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Plymouth Rock,&quot; said Jud fiercely. &quot;He wasn't no speckled feller!
+He was the finest rooster and the gamest&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Have it your own way,&quot; said the old man. &quot;You got your grandma's tongue
+when it comes to arguin' fine points. Now go and skin out of them
+clothes and come back and see that you've got all that&mdash;that stuff of'n
+your face and hands.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jud obeyed, and presently reappeared in a ragged outfit, his face and
+hands red from scrubbing.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I guess maybe it's all right,&quot; declared the old man. &quot;Only, they's
+risks in it. Know what's apt to happen if they was to find that you'd
+helped to get a outlaw off free?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What would it be?&quot; asked the boy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, nothin' much. Maybe they'd try you and maybe they wouldn't.
+Anyways, they'd sure wind up by hangin' you by the neck till you was as
+dead as the speckled rooster.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Plymouth Rock,&quot; insisted Jud hotly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All right, I don't argue none. But you just done a dangerous thing,
+Jud. And there'll be a consid'able pile of men here in the mornin', most
+like, to ask you how and why.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He was astonished to hear Jud break into laughter.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hush up,&quot; said Pop. &quot;You'll be wakin' him up with all that noise.
+Besides, what d'you mean by laughin' at the law?&quot; &quot;<!-- Page 113 --><a name="Page_113"></a>Why, granddad,&quot; said
+Jud, &quot;don't I know you wouldn't never let no posse take me from you?
+Don't I know maybe you'd clean 'em all up?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pshaw!&quot; said Pop, and flushed with delight. &quot;You was always a fool kid,
+Jud. Now you run along to bed.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 25</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>In Hal Dozier there was a belief that the end justified the means. When
+Hank Rainer sent word to Tomo that the outlaw was in his cabin, and, if
+the posse would gather, he, Hank, would come out of his cabin that night
+and let the posse rush the sleeping man who remained, Hal Dozier was
+willing and eager to take advantage of the opportunity. A man of action
+by nature and inclination, Dozier had built a great repute as a hunter
+of criminals, and he had been known to take single-handed chances
+against the most desperate; but when it was possible Hal Dozier played a
+safe game. Though the people of the mountain desert considered him
+invincible, because he had run down some dozen notorious fighters, Hal
+himself felt that this simply increased the chances that the thirteenth
+man, by luck or by cunning, would strike him down.</p>
+
+<p>Therefore he played safe always. On this occasion he made surety doubly
+sure. He could have taken two or three known men, and they would have
+been ample to do the work. Instead, he picked out half a dozen. For just
+as Henry Allister had recognized that indescribable element of danger in
+the new outlaw, so the manhunter himself had felt it. Hal Dozier
+determined that he would not tempt Providence. He had his commission as
+a deputy marshal, and as <!-- Page 114 --><a name="Page_114"></a>such he swore in his men and started for the
+cabin of Hank Rainer.</p>
+
+<p>When the news had spread, others came to join him, and he could not
+refuse. Before the cavalcade entered the mouth of the ca&ntilde;on he had some
+thirty men about him. They were all good men, but in a fight,
+particularly a fight at night, Hal Dozier knew that numbers to excess
+are apt to simply clog the working parts of the machine. All that he
+feared came to pass. There was one breathless moment of joy when the
+horse of Andrew was shot down and the fugitive himself staggered under
+the fire of the posse. At that moment Hal had poised his rifle for a
+shot that would end this long trail, but at that moment a yelling member
+of his own group had come between him and his target, and the chance was
+gone. When he leaped to one side to make the shot, Andrew was already
+among the trees.</p>
+
+<p>Afterward he had sent his men in a circle to close in on the spot from
+which the outlaw made his stand, but they had closed on empty
+shadows&mdash;the fugitive had escaped, leaving a trail of blood. However, it
+was hardly safe to take that trail in the night, and practically
+impossible until the sunlight came to follow the sign. So Hal Dozier had
+the three wounded men taken back to the cabin of Hank Rainer.</p>
+
+<p>The stove was piled with wood until the top was white hot, and then the
+posse sat about on the floor, crowding the room and waiting for the
+dawn. The three wounded men were made as comfortable as possible. One
+had been shot through the hip, a terrible wound that would probably
+stiffen his leg for life; another had gone down with a wound along the
+shin bone which kept him in a constant torture. The third man was hit
+cleanly through the thigh, and, though he had bled profusely for some
+time, he was now only weak, and in a few weeks he would be perfectly
+sound <!-- Page 115 --><a name="Page_115"></a>again. The hard breathing of the three was the only sound in that
+dim room during the rest of the night. The story of Hank Rainer had been
+told in half a dozen words. Lanning had suspected him, stuck him up at
+the point of a gun, and then-refused to kill him, in spite of the fact
+that he knew he was betrayed. After his explanation Hank withdrew to the
+darkest corner of the room and was silent. From time to time looks went
+toward that corner, and one thought was in every mind. This fellow, who
+had offered to take money for a guest, was damned for life and branded.
+Thereafter no one would trust him, no one would change words with him;
+he was an outcast, a social leper. And Hank Rainer knew it as well
+as any man.</p>
+
+<p>A cloud of tobacco smoke became dense in the room, and a halo surrounded
+the lantern on the wall. Then one by one men got up and muttered
+something about being done with the party, or having to be at work in
+the morning, and stamped out of the room and went down the ravine to the
+place where the horses had been tethered. The first thrill of excitement
+was gone. Moreover, it was no particular pleasure to close in on a
+wounded man who lay somewhere among the rocks, without a horse to carry
+him far, and too badly wounded to shift his position. Yet he could lie
+in his shelter, whatever clump of boulders he chose, and would make it
+hot for the men who tried to rout him out. The heavy breathing of the
+three wounded men gave point to these thoughts, and the men of family
+and the men of little heart got up and left the posse.</p>
+
+<p>The sheriff made no attempt to keep them. He retained his first
+hand-picked group. In the gray of the morning he rallied these men
+again. They went first to the dead, stiff body of the chestnut gelding
+and stripped it of the saddle and the pack of Lanning. This, by silent
+consent, was to be the reward of the trapper. This was his in lieu of
+the money which he would have earned if they had killed Lanning on <!-- Page 116 --><a name="Page_116"></a>the
+spot. Hal Dozier stiffly invited Hank to join them in the manhunt; he
+was met by a solemn silence, and the request was not repeated. Dozier
+had done a disagreeable duty, and the whole posse was glad to be free of
+the traitor. In the meantime the morning was brightening rapidly, and
+Dozier led out his men.</p>
+
+<p>They went to their horses, and, coming back to the place where Andrew
+had made his halt and fired his three shots, they took up the trail.</p>
+
+<p>It was as easy to read as a book. The sign was never wanting for more
+than three steps at a time, and Hal Dozier, reading skillfully, watched
+the decreasing distance between heel indentations, a sure sign that the
+fugitive was growing weak from the loss of the blood that spotted the
+trail. Straight on to the doorstep of Pop's cabin went the trail. Dozier
+rapped at the door, and the old man himself appeared. The bony fingers
+of one hand were wrapped around the corncob, which was his inseparable
+companion, and in the other he held the cloth with which he had been
+drying dishes. Jud turned from his pan of dishwater to cast a frightened
+glance over his shoulder. Pop did not wait for explanations.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come in, Dozier,&quot; he invited. &quot;Come in, boys. Glad to see you. Ain't
+particular comfortable for an oldster like me when they's a full-grown,
+man-eatin' outlaw layin' about the grounds. This Lanning come to my door
+last night. Me and Jud was sittin' by the stove. He wanted to get us to
+bandage him up, but I yanked my gun off'n the wall and ordered
+him away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You got your gun on Lanning&mdash;off the wall&mdash;before he had you covered?&quot;
+asked Hal Dozier with a singular smile.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I ain't so slow with my hands,&quot; declared Pop. &quot;I ain't half so old
+as I look, son! Besides, he was bleedin' to death and crazy in the head.
+I don't figure he even thought about his gun just then.&quot; &quot;<!-- Page 117 --><a name="Page_117"></a>Why didn't
+you shoot him down, Pop? Or take him? There's money in him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't I know it? Ain't I seen the posters? But I wasn't for pressin'
+things too hard. Not me at my age, with Jud along. I ordered him away
+and let him go. He went down yonder. Oh, you won't have far to go. He
+was about all in when he left. But I ain't been out lookin' around yet
+this morning. I know the feel of a forty-five slug in your inwards.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He placed a hand upon his stomach, and a growl of amusement went through
+the posse. After all, Pop was a known man. In the meantime someone had
+picked up the trail to the cliff, and Dozier followed it. They went
+along the heel marks to a place where blood had spurted liberally over
+the ground. &quot;Must have had a hemorrhage here,&quot; said Dozier. &quot;No, we
+won't have far to go. Poor devil!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And then they came to the edge of the cliff, where the heel marks ended.
+&quot;He walked straight over,&quot; said one of the men. &quot;Think o' that!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; exclaimed Dozier, who was on his knees examining the marks, &quot;he
+stood here a minute or so. First he shifted to one foot, and then he
+shifted his weight to the other. And his boots were turning in. Queer. I
+suppose his knees were buckling. He saw he was due to bleed to death and
+he took a shorter way! Plain suicide. Look down, boys! See anything?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a jumble of sharp rocks at the base of the cliff, and the
+water of the stream very close. Nothing showed on the rocks, nothing
+showed on the face of the cliff. They found a place a short distance to
+the right and lowered a man down with the aid of a rope. He looked about
+among the rocks. Then he ran down the stream for some distance. He came
+back with a glum face.</p>
+
+<p>There was no sign of the body of Andrew Lanning among the rocks. Looking
+up to the top of the cliff, from <!-- Page 118 --><a name="Page_118"></a>the place where he stood, he figured
+that a man could have jumped clear of the rocks by a powerful leap and
+might have struck in the swift current of the stream. There was no trace
+of the body in the waters, no drop of blood on the rocks. But then the
+water ran here at a terrific rate; the scout had watched a heavy boulder
+moved while he stood there. He went down the bank and came at once to a
+deep pool, over which the water was swirling. He sounded that pool with
+a long branch and found no bottom.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And that makes it clear,&quot; he said, &quot;that the body went down the water,
+came to that pool, was sucked down, and got lodged in the rocks. Anybody
+differ? No, gents, Andrew Lanning is food for the trout. And I say it's
+the best way out of the job for all of us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Hal Dozier was a man full of doubts. &quot;There's only one other thing
+possible,&quot; he said. &quot;He might have turned aside at the house of Pop. He
+may be there now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But don't the trail come here? And is there any back trail to the
+house?&quot; one of the men protested.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It doesn't look possible,&quot; nodded Hal Dozier, &quot;but queer things are apt
+to happen. Let's go back and have a look.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 26</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>He dismounted and gave his horse to one of the others, telling them that
+he would do the scouting himself this time, and he went back on foot to
+the house of Pop. He made his steps noiseless as he came closer, not
+that he expected to surprise Pop to any purpose, but the natural
+instinct of the trailer made him advance with caution, and, when he was
+close enough to the door he heard: &quot;Oh, he's <!-- Page 119 --><a name="Page_119"></a>a clever gent, well
+enough, but they ain't any of 'em so clever that they can't learn
+somethin' new.&quot; Hal Dozier paused with his hand raised to rap at the
+door and he heard Pop say in continuation: &quot;You write this down in red,
+sonny, and don't you never forget it: The wisest gent is the gent that
+don't take nothin' for granted.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It came to Hal Dozier that, if he delayed his entrance for another
+moment, he might hear something distinctly to his advantage; but his
+role of eavesdropper did not fit with his broad shoulders, and, after
+knocking on the door, he stepped in. Pop was putting away the dishes,
+and Jud was scrubbing out the sink.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The boys are working up the trail,&quot; said Hal Dozier, &quot;but they can do
+it by themselves. I know that the trail ends at the cliff. I'll tell you
+that poor kid walked to the edge of the cliff, stopped there a minute;
+made up his mind that he was bleeding to death, and then cut it short.
+He jumped, missed the rocks underneath, and was carried off by the
+river.&quot; Dozier followed up his statement with some curse words.</p>
+
+<p>He watched the face of the other keenly, but the old man was busy
+filling his pipe. His eyebrows, to be sure, flicked up as he heard this
+tragedy announced, and there was a breath from Jud. &quot;I'll tell you,
+Dozier,&quot; said the other, lighting his pipe and then tamping the red-hot
+coals with his calloused forefinger, &quot;I'm kind of particular about the
+way people cusses around Jud. He's kind of young, and they ain't any
+kind of use of him litterin' up his mind with useless words. Don't mean
+no offense to you, Dozier.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The deputy officer took a chair and tipped it back against the wall. He
+felt that he had been thoroughly checkmated in his first move; and yet
+he sensed an atmosphere of suspicion in this little house. It lingered
+in the air. Also, he noted that Jud was watching him with rather wide
+eyes and a face of unhealthy pallor; but that might very well be because
+of <!-- Page 120 --><a name="Page_120"></a>the awe which the youngster felt in beholding Hal Dozier, the
+manhunter, at close range. All these things were decidedly small clews,
+but the marshal was accustomed to acting on hints.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime, Pop, having put away the last of the dishes in a
+cupboard, whose shelves were lined with fresh white paper, offered
+Dozier a cup of coffee. While he sipped it, the marshal complimented his
+host on the precision with which he maintained his house.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It looks like a woman's hand had been at work,&quot; concluded the marshal.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Something better'n that,&quot; declared the other. &quot;A man's hand, Dozier.
+People has an idea that because women mostly do housework men are out of
+place in a kitchen. It ain't so. Men just got somethin' more important
+on their hands most of the time.&quot; His eyes glanced sadly toward his gun
+rack. &quot;Women is a pile overpraised, Dozier. I ask you, man to man, did
+you ever see a cleaner floor than that in a woman's kitchen?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The marshal admitted that he never had. &quot;But you're a rare man,&quot; he
+said.</p>
+
+<p>Pop shook his head. &quot;When I was a boy like you,&quot; he said, &quot;I wasn't
+nothin' to be passed up too quick. But a man's young only once, and
+that's a short time&mdash;and he's old for years and years and years,
+Dozier.&quot; He added, for fear that he might have depressed his guest, &quot;But
+me and Jud team it, you see. I'm extra old and Jud's extra young&mdash;so we
+kind of hit an average.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He touched the shoulder of the boy and there was a flash of eyes between
+them, the flicker of a smile. Hal Dozier drew a breath. &quot;I got no kids
+of my own,&quot; he declared. &quot;You're lucky, friend. And you're lucky to have
+this neat little house.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, I ain't. They's no luck to it, because I made every sliver of it
+with my own hands.&quot; <!-- Page 121 --><a name="Page_121"></a>An idea came to the deputy marshal.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There's a place up in the hills behind my house, a day's ride,&quot; he
+said, &quot;where I go hunting now and then, and I've an idea a little house
+like this would be just the thing for me. Mind if I look it over?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Pop tamped his pipe.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sure thing,&quot; he said. &quot;Look as much as you like.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He stepped to a corner of the room and by a ring he raised a trapdoor.
+&quot;I got a cellar 'n' everything. Take a look at it below.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He lighted the lantern, and Hal Dozier went down the steep steps,
+humming. &quot;Look at the way that foundation's put in,&quot; said the old man in
+a loud voice. &quot;I done all that, too, with my own hands.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His voice was so unnecessarily loud, indeed, just as if the deputy were
+already under ground, that it occurred to Dozier that if a man were
+lying in that cellar he would be amply warned. And going down he walked
+with the lantern held to one side, to keep the light off his own body as
+much as possible; his hand kept at his hip.</p>
+
+<p>But, when he reached the cellar, he found only some boxes and canned
+provisions in a rack at one side, and a various litter all kept in close
+order. Big stones had been chiseled roughly into shape to build the
+walls, and the flooring was as dry as the floor of the house. It was, on
+the whole, a very solid bit of work. A good place to imprison a man, for
+instance. At this thought Dozier glanced up sharply and saw the other
+holding the trapdoor ajar. Something about that implacable, bony face
+made Dozier turn and hurry back up the stairs to the main floor of
+the house.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nice bit of work down there,&quot; he said. &quot;I can use that idea very well.
+Well,&quot; he added carelessly, &quot;I wonder when my fool posse will get
+through hunting for the remains of poor Lanning? Come to think of
+it&quot;&mdash;for it occurred to him that if the old man were indeed concealing
+the outlaw he <!-- Page 122 --><a name="Page_122"></a>might not know the price which was on his head&mdash;&quot;there's
+a pretty little bit of coin connected with Lanning. Too bad you didn't
+drop him when he came to your door.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Drop a helpless man&mdash;for money?&quot; asked the old man. &quot;Never, Dozier!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He hadn't long to live, anyway,&quot; answered the marshal in some
+confusion. Those old, straight eyes of Pop troubled him.</p>
+
+<p>He fenced with a new stroke for a confession.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For my part, I've never had much heart in this work of mine.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He killed your brother, didn't he?&quot; asked Pop with considerable
+dryness.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bill made the wrong move,&quot; replied Hal instantly. &quot;He never should have
+ridden Lanning down in the first place. Should have let the fool kid go
+until he found out that Buck Heath wasn't killed. Then he would have
+come back of his own accord.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's a good idea,&quot; remarked the other, &quot;but sort of late, it strikes
+me. Did you tell that to the sheriff?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Late it is,&quot; remarked Dozier, not following the question. &quot;Now the poor
+kid is outlawed. Well, between you and me, I wish he'd gotten away
+clean-handed. But too late now.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By the way,&quot; he went on, &quot;I'd like to take a squint at your attic, too.
+That ladder goes up to it, I guess.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Go ahead,&quot; said Pop. And once more he tamped his pipe.</p>
+
+<p>There was a sharp, shrill cry from the boy, and Dozier whirled on him.
+He saw a pale, scared face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's the matter?&quot; he asked sharply. &quot;What's the matter with you,
+Jud?&quot; And he fastened his keen glance on the boy.</p>
+
+<p>Vaguely, from the corner of his eye, he felt that Pop had taken the pipe
+from his mouth. There was a sort of breathless touch in the air of the
+room. &quot;<!-- Page 123 --><a name="Page_123"></a>Nothin',&quot; said Jud. &quot;Only&mdash;you know the rungs of that ladder
+ain't fit to be walked on, grandad!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Jud,&quot; said the old man with a strained tone, &quot;It ain't my business to
+give warnin's to an officer of the law&mdash;not mine. He'll find out little
+things like that for himself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For one moment Dozier remained looking from one face to the other. Then
+he shrugged his shoulders and went slowly up the ladder. It squeaked
+under his weight, he felt the rungs bow and tremble. Halfway up he
+turned suddenly, but Pop was sitting as old men will, humming a tune and
+keeping time to it by patting the bowl of his pipe with a forefinger.</p>
+
+<p>And Dozier made up his mind.</p>
+
+<p>He turned and came down the ladder. &quot;I guess there's no use looking in
+the attic,&quot; he said. &quot;Same as any other attic, I suppose, Pop?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The same?&quot; asked Pop, taking the pipe from his mouth. &quot;I should tell a
+man it ain't. It's my work, that attic is, and it's different. I handled
+the joinin' of them joists pretty slick, but you better go and see for
+yourself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And he smiled at the deputy from under his bushy brows. Hal Dozier
+grinned broadly back at him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've seen your work in the cellar, Pop,&quot; he said. &quot;I don't want to risk
+my neck on that ladder. No, I'll have to let it go. Besides, I'll have
+to round up the boys.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He waved farewell, stepped through the door, and closed it behind him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Grandad,&quot; exclaimed Jud in a gasp.</p>
+
+<p>The old man silenced him with a raised finger and a sudden frown. He
+slipped to the door in turn with a step so noiseless that even Jud
+wondered. Years seemed to have fallen from the shoulders of his
+grandfather. He opened the door quickly, and there stood the deputy. His
+back, to be sure, was turned to the door, but he hadn't moved.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Think I see your gang over yonder,&quot; said Pop. &quot;They <!-- Page 124 --><a name="Page_124"></a>seem to be sort of
+waitin' for you, Dozier.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The other turned and twisted one glance up at the old man.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thanks,&quot; he said shortly and strode away.</p>
+
+<p>Pop closed the door and sank into a chair. He seemed suddenly to have
+aged again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, grandad,&quot; said Jud, &quot;how'd you guess he was there all the time?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I dunno,&quot; said Pop. &quot;Don't bother me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But why'd you beg him to look into the attic? Didn't you know he'd see
+him right off?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Because he goes by contraries, Jud. He wouldn't of started for the
+ladder at all, if you hadn't told him he'd probably break his neck on
+it. Only when he seen I didn't care, he made up his mind he didn't want
+to see that attic.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if he'd gone up?&quot; whispered Jud.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't ask me what would of happened,&quot; said Pop.</p>
+
+<p>All his bony frame was shaken by a shiver.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is he such a fine fighter?&quot; asked Jud.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Fighter?&quot; echoed Pop. &quot;Oh, lad, he's the greatest hand with a gun that
+ever shoved foot into stirrup. He&mdash;he was like a bulldog on a trail&mdash;and
+all I had for a rope to hold him was just a little spider thread of
+thinking. Gimme some coffee, Jud. I've done a day's work.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 27</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>The bullets of the posse had neither torn a tendon nor broken a bone.
+Striking at close range and driven by highpower rifles, the slugs had
+whipped cleanly through the flesh of Andrew Lanning, and the flesh
+closed again, almost as swiftly as ice freezes firm behind the wire that
+cuts it. In <!-- Page 125 --><a name="Page_125"></a>a very few days he could sit up, and finally came down the
+ladder with Pop beneath him and Jud steadying his shoulders from above.
+That was a gala day in the house. Indeed, they had lived well ever since
+the coming of Andrew, for he had insisted that he bear the household
+expense while he remained there, since they would not allow him
+to depart.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I'll let you pay for things, Andrew,&quot; Pop had said, &quot;if you won't
+say nothing about it, ever, to Jud. He's a proud kid, is Jud, and he'd
+bust his heart if he thought I was lettin' you spend a cent here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But this day they had a fine steak, brought out from Tomo by Pop the
+evening before, and they had beans with plenty of pork and molasses in
+them, cream biscuits, which Pop could make delicious beyond belief, to
+say nothing of canned tomatoes with bits of dried bread in them, and
+coffee as black as night. Such was the celebration when Andrew came down
+to join his hosts, and so high did all spirits rise that even Jud, the
+resolute and the alert, forgot his watch. Every day from dawn to dark he
+was up to the door or to the rear window, keeping the landscape under a
+sweeping observance every few moments, lest some chance traveler&mdash;all
+search for Andrew Lanning had, of course, ceased with the moment of his
+disappearance&mdash;should happen by and see the stranger in the household
+of Pop. But during these festivities all else was forgotten, and in the
+midst of things a decided, rapid knock was heard at the door.</p>
+
+<p>Speech was cut off at the root by that sound. For whoever the stranger
+might be, he must certainly have heard three voices raised in that room.
+It was Andrew who spoke. And he spoke in only a whisper. &quot;Whoever it may
+be, let him in,&quot; said Andrew, &quot;and, if there's any danger about him, he
+won't leave till I'm able to leave. Open the door, Jud.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Jud, with a stricken look, crossed the floor with trailing feet. The
+knock was repeated; it had a metallic <!-- Page 126 --><a name="Page_126"></a>clang, as though the man outside
+were rapping with the butt of a gun in his impatience, and Andrew,
+setting his teeth, laid his hand on the handle of his revolver. Here Jud
+cast open the door, and, standing close to it with her forefeet on the
+top step, was the bay mare. She instantly thrust in her head and snorted
+in the direction of the stranger.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thank heaven!&quot; said Andrew. &quot;I thought it was the guns again!&quot; And Jud,
+shouting with delight and relief, threw his arms around the neck of the
+horse. &quot;It's Sally!&quot; he said. &quot;Sally, you rascal!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That good-for-nothing hoss Sally,&quot; complained the old man. &quot;Shoo her
+away, Jud.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Andrew protested at that, and Jud cast him a glance of gratitude.
+Andrew himself got up from the table and went across the room with half
+of an apple in his hand. He sliced it into bits, and she took them
+daintily from between his fingers. And when Jud reluctantly ordered her
+away she did not blunder down the steps, but threw her weight back on
+her haunches and swerved lightly away. It fascinated Andrew; he had
+never seen so much of feline control in the muscles of a horse. When he
+turned back to the table he announced: &quot;Pop, I've got to ride that
+horse. I've got to have her. How does she sell?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She ain't mine,&quot; said Pop. &quot;You better ask Jud.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jud was at once white and red. He looked at his hero, and then he looked
+into his mind and saw the picture of Sally. A way out occurred to him.
+&quot;You can have her when you can ride her,&quot; he said. &quot;She ain't much use
+except to look at. But if you can saddle her and ride her before you
+leave&mdash;well, you can leave on her, Andy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was the beginning of busy days for Andrew. The cold weather was
+coming on rapidly. Now the higher mountains above them were swiftly
+whitening, while the line of the snow was creeping nearer and nearer.
+The sight of it alarmed Andrew, and, with the thought of being
+snow-bound <!-- Page 127 --><a name="Page_127"></a>in these hills, his blood turned cold. What he yearned for
+were the open spaces of the mountain desert, where he could see the
+enemy approach. But every day in the cabin the terror grew that someone
+would pass, some one, unnoticed, would observe the stranger. The whisper
+would reach Tomo&mdash;the posse would come again, and the second time the
+trap was sure to work. He must get away, but no ordinary horse would do
+for him. If he had had a fine animal under him Bill Dozier would never
+have run him down, and he would still be within the border of the law. A
+fine horse&mdash;such a horse as Sally, say!</p>
+
+<p>If he had been strong he would have attempted to break her at once, but
+he was not strong. He could barely support his own weight during the
+first couple of days after he left the bunk, and he had to use his mind.
+He began, then, at the point where Jud had left off.</p>
+
+<p>Jud could ride Sally with a scrap of cloth beneath him; Andrew started
+to increase the size of that cloth. To keep it in place he made a long
+strip of sacking to serve as a cinch, and before the first day was gone
+she was thoroughly used to it. With this great step accomplished, Andrew
+increased the burden each time he changed the pad. He got a big
+tarpaulin and folded it many times; the third day she was accepting it
+calmly and had ceased to turn her head and nose it. Then he carried up a
+small sack of flour and put that in place upon the tarpaulin. She winced
+under the dead-weight burden; there followed a full half hour of frantic
+bucking which would have pitched the best rider in the world out of a
+saddle, but the sack of flour was tied on, and Sally could not dislodge
+it. When she was tired of bucking she stood still, and then discovered
+that the sack of flour was not only harmless but that it was good to
+eat. Andrew was barely in time to save the contents of the sack from
+her teeth.</p>
+
+<p>It was another long step forward in the education of <!-- Page 128 --><a name="Page_128"></a>Sally. Next he
+fashioned clumsy imitations of stirrups, and there was a long fight
+between Sally and stirrups, but the stirrups, being inanimate, won, and
+Sally submitted to the bouncing wooden things at her sides. And still,
+day after day, Andrew built his imitation saddle closer and closer to
+the real thing, until he had taken a real pair of cinches off one of
+Pop's saddles and had taught her to stand the pressure without
+flinching.</p>
+
+<p>There was another great return from Andrew's long and steady intimacy
+with the mare. She came to accept him absolutely. She knew his voice;
+she would come to his whistle; and finally, when every vestige of
+unsoundness had left his wounds, he climbed into that improvised saddle
+and put his feet in the stirrups. Sally winced down in her catlike way
+and shuddered, but he began to talk to her, and the familiar voice
+decided Sally. She merely turned her head and rubbed his knee with her
+nose. The battle was over and won. Ten minutes later Andrew had cinched
+a real saddle in place, and she bore the weight of the leather without a
+stir. The memory of that first saddle and the biting of the bur beneath
+it had been gradually wiped from her mind, and the new saddle was
+connected indisolubly with the voice and the hand of the man. At the end
+of that day's work Andrew carried the saddle back into the house with a
+happy heart.</p>
+
+<p>And the next day he took his first real ride on the back of the mare. He
+noted how easily she answered the play of his wrist, how little her head
+moved in and out, so that he seldom had to sift the reins through his
+fingers to keep in touch with the bit. He could start her from a stand
+into a full gallop with a touch of his knees, and he could bring her to
+a sliding halt with the least pressure on the reins. He could tell,
+indeed, that she was one of those rare possessions, a horse with a
+wise mouth.</p>
+
+<p>And yet he had small occasion to keep up on the bit as <!-- Page 129 --><a name="Page_129"></a>he rode her. She
+was no colt which hardly knew its own paces. She was a stanch
+five-year-old, and she had roamed the mountains about Pop's place at
+will. She went like a wild thing over the broken going. That catlike
+agility with which she wound among the rocks, hardly impaired her speed
+as she swerved. Andrew found her a book whose pages he could turn
+forever and always find something new.</p>
+
+<p>He forgot where he was going. He only knew that the wind was clipping
+his face and that Sally was eating up the ground, and he came to himself
+with a start, after a moment, realizing that his dream had carried him
+perilously out of the mouth of the ravine. He had even allowed the mare
+to reach a bit of winding road, rough indeed, but cut by many wheels and
+making a white streak across the country. Andrew drew in his breath
+anxiously and turned her back for the ca&ntilde;on.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 28</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>It was, indeed, a grave moment, yet the chances were large that even if
+he met someone on the road he would not be recognized, for it had been
+many days since the death of Andrew Lanning was announced through the
+countryside. He gritted his teeth when he thought that this single burst
+of childish carelessness might have imperiled all that he and Jud and
+Pop had worked for so long and so earnestly&mdash;the time when he could take
+the bay mare and start the ride across the mountains to the comparative
+safety on the other side.</p>
+
+<p>That time, he made up his mind, would be the next evening. He was well;
+Sally was thoroughly mastered; and, with a horse beneath him which, he
+felt, could give even the <!-- Page 130 --><a name="Page_130"></a>gray stallion of Hal Dozier hard work, and
+therefore show her heels to any other animal on the mountain desert, he
+looked forward to the crossing of the mountains as an accomplished fact.
+Always supposing that he could pass Twin Falls and the fringe of towns
+in the hills, without being recognized and the alarm sent out.</p>
+
+<p>Going back up the road toward the ravine at a brisk canter, he pursued
+the illuminating comparison between Sally and Dozier's famous Gray
+Peter. Of course, nothing but a downright test of speed and
+weight-carrying power, horse to horse, could decide which was the
+superior, but Andrew had ridden Gray Peter many times when he and Uncle
+Jasper went out to the Dozier place, and he felt that he could sum up
+the differences between the two beautiful animals. Sally was the smaller
+of the two, for instance. She could not stand more than fifteen hands,
+or fifteen-one at the most. Gray Peter was a full sixteen hands of
+strong bone and fine muscle, a big animal&mdash;almost too big for some
+purposes. Among these rocks, now, he would stand no chance with Sally.
+Gray Peter was a picture horse. When one looked at him one felt that he
+was a standard by which other animals should be measured. He carried his
+head loftily, and there was a lordly flaunt to his tail. On the other
+hand, Sally was rather long and low. Furthermore, her neck, which was by
+no means the heavy neck of the gray stallion, she was apt to carry
+stretched rather straight out and not curled proudly up as Gray Peter
+carried his. Neither did she bear her tail so proudly. Some of this, of
+course, was due to the difference between a mare and a stallion, but
+still more came from the differing natures of the two animals. In the
+head lay the greatest variation. The head of Gray Peter was close to
+perfection, light, compact, heavy of jowl; his eye at all times was
+filled with an intolerable brightness, a keen flame of courage and
+eagerness. But one could find a fault with Sally's head. In general, it
+was <!-- Page 131 --><a name="Page_131"></a>very well shaped, with the wide forehead and all the other good
+points which invariably go with that feature; but her face was just a
+trifle dished. Moreover, her eye was apt to be a bit dull. She had been
+a pet all her life, and, like most pets, her eye partook of the human
+quality. It had a conversational way of brightening and growing dull. On
+the whole, the head of Sally had a whimsical, inquisitive expression,
+and by her whole carriage she seemed to be perpetually putting her nose
+into other business than her own.</p>
+
+<p>But the gait was the main difference. Riding Gray Peter, one felt an
+enormous force urging at the bit and ready and willing to expend itself
+to the very last ounce, with tremendous courage and good heart; there
+was always a touch of fear that Gray Peter, plunging unabated over rough
+and smooth, might be running himself out. But Sally would not maintain
+one pace. She was apt to shorten her stride for choppy going, and she
+would lengthen it like a witch on the level. She kept changing the
+elevation of her head. She ran freely, looking about her and taking note
+of what she saw, so that she gave an indescribable effect of enjoying
+the gallop just as much as her rider, but in a different way. All in
+all, Gray Peter was a glorious machine; Sally was a tricky intelligence.
+Gray Peter's heart was never in doubt, but what would Sally's courage be
+in a pinch?</p>
+
+<p>Full of these comparisons, studying Sally as one would study a friend,
+Andrew forgot again all around him, and so he came suddenly, around a
+bend in the road, upon a buckboard with two men in it. He went by the
+buckboard with a wave of greeting and a side glance, and it was not
+until he was quite around the elbow turn that he remembered that one of
+the men in the wagon had looked at him with a strange intentness. It was
+a big man with a great blond beard, parted as though with a comb by
+the wind.</p>
+
+<p>He rode back around the bend, and there, down the <!-- Page 132 --><a name="Page_132"></a>road, he saw the
+buckboard bouncing, with the two horses pulling it at a dead gallop and
+the driver leaning back in the seat.</p>
+
+<p>But the other man, the big man with the beard, had picked a rifle out of
+the bed of the wagon, and now he sat turned in the seat, with his blond
+beard blown sidewise as he looked back. Beyond a doubt Andrew had been
+recognized, and now the two were speeding to Tomo to give their report
+and raise the alarm a second time. Andrew, with a groan, shot his hand
+to the long holster of the rifle which Pop had insisted that he take
+with him if he rode out. There was still plenty of time for a long shot.
+He saw the rifle jerk up to the shoulder of the big man; something
+hummed by him, and then the report came barking up the ravine.</p>
+
+<p>But Andrew turned Sally and went around the bend; that old desire to
+rush on the men and shoot them down, that same cold tingling of the
+nerves, which he had felt when he faced the posse after the fall of Bill
+Dozier, was on him again, and he had to fight it down. He mastered it,
+and galloped with a heavy heart up the ravine and to the house of Pop.
+The old man saw him; he called to Jud, and the two stood in front of the
+door to admire the horseman and his horse. But Andrew flung himself out
+of the saddle and came to them sadly. He told them what had happened,
+the meeting, the recognition. There was only one thing to do&mdash;make up
+the pack as soon as possible and leave the place. For they would know
+where he had been hiding. Sally was famous all through the mountains;
+she was known as Pop's outlaw horse, and the searchers would come
+straight to his house.</p>
+
+<p>Pop took the news philosophically, but Jud became a pitiful figure of
+stone in his grief. He came to life again to help in the packing. They
+worked swiftly, and Andrew <!-- Page 133 --><a name="Page_133"></a>began to ask the final questions about the
+best and least-known trails over the mountains. Pop discouraged
+the attempt.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You seen what happened before,&quot; he said. &quot;They'll have learned their
+lesson from Hal Dozier. They'll take the telephone and rouse the towns
+all along the mountains. In two hours, Andy, two hundred men will be
+blocking every trail and closin' in on you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Andrew reluctantly admitted the truth of what he said. He resigned
+himself gloomily to turning back onto the mountain desert, and now he
+remembered the warning of failure which Henry Allister had given him. He
+felt, indeed, that the great outlaw had simply allowed him to run on a
+long rope, knowing that he must travel in a circle and eventually come
+back to the band.</p>
+
+<p>Now the pack was made&mdash;he saw Jud covertly tuck some little mementoes
+into it&mdash;and he drew Pop aside and dropped a weight of gold coins into
+his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You tarnation scoundrel!&quot; began Pop huskily.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hush,&quot; said Andrew, &quot;or Jud will hear you and know that I've tried to
+leave some money. You don't want to ruin me with Jud, do you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Pop was uneasy and uncertain.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've had your food these weeks and your care, Pop,&quot; said Andrew, &quot;and
+now I walk off with a saddle and a horse and an outfit all yours. It's
+too much. I can't take charity. But suppose I accept it as a gift; I
+leave you an exchange&mdash;a present for Jud that you can give him later on.
+Is that fair?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Andy,&quot; said the old man, &quot;you've double-crossed me, and you've got me
+where I can't talk out before Jud. But I'll get even yet. Good-by, lad,
+and put this one thing under your hat: It's the loneliness that's goin'
+to be the hardest thing to fight, Andy. You'll get so tired of bein' by
+yourself that you'll risk murder for the sake of a talk. But then hold
+<!-- Page 134 --><a name="Page_134"></a>hard. Stay by yourself. Don't trust to nobody. And keep clear of towns.
+Will you do that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's plain common sense, Pop.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Aye, lad, and the plain things are always the hardest things to do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Next came Jud. He was very white, but he approached Andrew with a
+careless swagger and shook hands firmly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When you bump into that Dozier, Andy,&quot; he said, &quot;get him, will you?
+S'long!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He turned sharply and sauntered toward the open door of the house. But
+before he was halfway to it they heard a choking sound; Jud broke into a
+run, and, once past the door, slammed it behind him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't mind him,&quot; said Pop, clearing his throat violently. &quot;He'll cry
+the sick feelin' out of his insides. God bless you, Andy! And remember
+what I say: The loneliness is the hard thing to fight, but keep clear of
+men, and after a time they'll forget about you. You can settle down and
+nobody'll rake up old scores. I know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;D'you think it can be done?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a faint, cold twinkle in the eyes of Pop. &quot;I'll tell a man it
+can be done,&quot; he said slowly. &quot;When you come back here I may be able to
+tell you a little story, Andy. Now climb on Sally and don't hit nothin'
+but the high spots.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 29</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>Even in his own lifetime a man in the mountain desert passes swiftly
+from the fact of history into the dream of legend. The telephone and the
+newspaper cannot bring that lonely region into the domain of cold truth.
+In the time that followed people seized on the story of Andrew Lanning
+<!-- Page 135 --><a name="Page_135"></a>and embroidered it with rare trimmings. It was told over and over again
+in saloons and around family firesides and in the bunk houses of many
+ranches. For Andrew had done what many men failed to do in spite of a
+score of killings&mdash;he struck the public fancy. People realized, however
+vaguely, that here was a unique story of the making of a desperado, and
+they gathered the story of Andrew Lanning to their hearts.</p>
+
+<p>On the whole, it was not an unkindly interest. In reality the sympathy
+was with the outlaw. For everyone knew that Hal Dozier was on the trail
+again, and everyone felt that in the end he would run down his man, and
+there was a general hope that the chase might be a long one. For one
+thing, the end of that chase would have removed one of the few vital
+current bits of news. Men could no longer open conversations by asking
+the last tidings of Andrew. Such questions were always a signal for an
+unlocking of tongues around the circle.</p>
+
+<p>Many untruths were told. For instance, the blowing of the safe in
+Allertown was falsely attributed to Andrew, while in reality he knew
+nothing about &quot;soup&quot; and its uses. And the running of the cows off the
+Circle O Bar range toward the border was another exploit which was
+wrongly checked to his credit or discredit. Also the brutal butchery in
+the night at Buffalo Head was sometimes said to be Andrew's work, but in
+general the men of the mountain desert came to know that the outlaw was
+not a red-handed murderer, but simply a man who fought for his own life.</p>
+
+<p>The truths in themselves were enough to bear telling and retelling.
+Andrew's Thanksgiving dinner at William Foster's house, with a revolver
+on the table and a smile on his lips, was a pleasant tale and a
+thrilling one as well, for Foster had been able to go to the telephone
+and warn the nearest officer of the law. There was the incident of the
+jammed rifle at The Crossing; the tale of how a youngster <!-- Page 136 --><a name="Page_136"></a>at Tomo
+decided that he would rival the career of the great man&mdash;how he got a
+fine bay mare and started a blossoming career of crime by sticking up
+three men on the road and committing several depredations which were all
+attributed to Andrew, until Andrew himself ran down the foolish fellow,
+shot the gun out of his hand, gave him a talking that recalled his
+lost senses.</p>
+
+<p>But all details fell into insignificance compared with the general
+theme, which was the mighty duel between Andrew and Hal Dozier&mdash;the
+unescapable manhunter and the trapwise outlaw. Hal did not lose any
+reputation because he failed to take Andrew Lanning at once. The very
+fact that he was able to keep close enough to make out the trail at all
+increased his fame. He did not even lose his high standing because he
+would not hunt Andrew alone. He always kept a group with him, and people
+said that he was wise to do it. Not because he was not a match for
+Andrew Lanning singlehanded, but because it was folly to risk life when
+there were odds which might be used against the desperado. But everyone
+felt that eventually Lanning would draw the deputy marshal away from his
+posse, and then the outlaw would turn, and there would follow a battle
+of the giants. The whole mountain desert waited for that time to come
+and bated its breath in hope and fear of it.</p>
+
+<p>But if the men of the mountain desert considered Hal Dozier the greatest
+enemy of Andrew, he himself had quite another point of view. It was the
+loneliness, as Pop had promised him. There were days when he hardly
+touched food such was his distaste for the ugly messes which he had to
+cook with his own hands; there were days when he would have risked his
+life to eat a meal served by the hands of another and cooked by another
+man. That was the secret of that Thanksgiving dinner at the Foster
+house, though others put it down to sheer, reckless mischief. And today,
+as he made his fire between two stones&mdash;a smoldering, <!-- Page 137 --><a name="Page_137"></a>evil-smelling
+fire of sagebrush&mdash;the smoke kept running up his clothes and choking his
+lungs with its pungency. And the fat bacon which he cut turned his
+stomach. At last he sat down, forgetting the bacon in the pan,
+forgetting the long fast and the hard ride which had preceded this meal,
+and stared at the fire.</p>
+
+<p>Rather, the fire was the thing which he kept chiefly in the center of
+his vision, but his glances went everywhere, to all sides, up, and down.
+Hal Dozier had hunted him hotly down the valley of the Little Silver
+River, but near the village of Los Toros the fagged posse and Hal
+himself had dropped back and once more given up the chase. No doubt they
+would rest for a few hours in the town, change horses, and then come
+after him again.</p>
+
+<p>It was a new Andrew Lanning that sat there by the fire. He had left
+Martindale a clear-faced boy; the months that followed had changed him
+to a man; the boyhood had been literally burned out of him. The skin of
+his face, indeed, refused to tan, but now, instead of a healthy and
+crisp white it was a colorless sallow. The rounded cheeks were now
+straight and sank in sharply beneath his cheek bones, with a sharply
+incised line beside the mouth. And his expression at all times was one
+of quivering alertness&mdash;the mouth a little compressed and straight, the
+nostrils seeming a trifle distended, and the eyes as restless as the
+eyes of a hungry wolf.</p>
+
+<p>Moreover, all of Andrew's actions had come to bear out this same
+expression of his face. If he sat down his legs were gathered, and he
+seemed about to stand up. If he walked he went with a nervous step,
+rising a little on his toes as though he were about to break into a run
+or as though he were poising himself to whirl at any alarm. He sat in
+this manner even now, under that dead gray sky of sheeted clouds, and in
+the middle of that great rolling plain, lifeless and colorless&mdash;lifeless
+except for the wind that hummed <!-- Page 138 --><a name="Page_138"></a>across it, pointed with cold. Andrew,
+looking from the dull glimmer of his fire to that dead waste, sighed. He
+whistled, and Sally came instantly to the call and dropped her head
+beside his own. She, at least, had not changed in the long pursuits and
+the hard life. It had made her gaunt. It had hardened and matured her
+muscles, but her head was the same, and her changeable, human eyes, the
+eyes of a pet, had not altered.</p>
+
+<p>She stood there with her head down, silently; and Andrew, his hands
+locked around his knees, neither spoke to her nor stirred. But by
+degrees the pain and the hunger went out of his face, and, as though she
+knew that she was no longer needed, Sally tipped his sombrero over his
+eyes with a toss of her head, and, having given this signal of disgust
+at being called without a purpose, she went back to her work of cropping
+the gramma grass, which of all grasses a horse loves best. Andrew
+straightened his hat and cast one glance after her.</p>
+
+<p>A shade of thought passed over his face as he looked at her. But this
+time the posse was probably once more starting on out of Los Toros and
+taking his trail. It would mean another test; he did not fear for her,
+but he pitied her for the hard work that was coming, and he looked
+almost with regret over the long racing lines of her body. And it was
+then, coming out of the sight of Sally, the thought of the posse, and
+the disgust for the greasy bacon in the pan, that Andrew received a
+quite new idea. It was to stop his flight, turn about, and double like a
+fox straight back toward Los Toros, making a detour to the left. The
+posse would plunge ahead, and he could cut in toward Los Toros. For he
+had determined to eat once again, at least, at a table covered with a
+white cloth, food prepared by the hand of another. Sally was known; he
+would leave her in the grove beside the Little Silver River. For
+himself, weeks had passed since any man had seen him, and certainly no
+one in Los Toros had <!-- Page 139 --><a name="Page_139"></a>met him face to face. He would be unknown except
+for a general description. And to disarm suspicion entirely he would
+leave his cartridge belt and his revolver with Sally in the woods. For
+what human being, no matter how imaginative, would possibly dream of
+Andrew Lanning going unarmed into a town and sitting calmly at a table
+to order a meal?</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 30</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>Retrospection made Andrew Lanning's coming to Los Toros a mad freak,
+whereas it was in reality a very clever stroke. Hal Dozier would have
+been on the road five hours before if he had not been held up in the
+matter of horses, but this is to tell the story out of turn.</p>
+
+<p>Andrew saddled the mare and sent her back swiftly out of the plain, over
+the hills, and then dropped her down into the valley of the Little
+Silver River until he reached the grove of trees just outside Los
+Toros&mdash;some four hundred yards, say, from the little group of houses. He
+then took off his belt, hung it over the pommel, fastened the reins to
+the belt, and turned away. Sally would stay where he left her&mdash;unless
+someone else tried to get to her head, and then she would fight like a
+wildcat. He knew that, and he therefore started for Los Toros with his
+line of communications sufficiently guarded.</p>
+
+<p>He instinctively thought first of drawing his hat low over his eyes and
+walking swiftly; a moment of calm figuring told him that the better way
+was to push the hat to the back of his head, put his hands in his
+pockets, and go whistling through the streets of the town. It was the
+middle of the gray afternoon; there were few people about, and the two
+<!-- Page 140 --><a name="Page_140"></a>or three whom Andrew passed nodded a greeting. Each time they raised
+their hands the fingers of Andrew twitched, but he made himself smile
+back at them and waved in return.</p>
+
+<p>He went on until he came to the restaurant. It was a long, narrow room
+with a row of tables down each side, and a little counter and cash
+register beside the door, some gaudy posters on the wall, a screen at
+the rear to hide the entrance to the kitchen, and a ragged strip of
+linoleum on the narrow passage between the tables.</p>
+
+<p>These things Andrew saw with the first flick of his eyes as he came
+through the door; as for people, there was a fat old man sitting behind
+the cash register in a dirty white apron and two men in greasy overalls
+and black shirts, perhaps from the railroad. There was one other thing
+which immediately blotted out all the rest; it was a big poster, about
+halfway down the wall, on which appeared in staring letters: &quot;Ten
+thousand dollars reward for the apprehension, dead or alive, of Andrew
+Lanning.&quot; Above this caption was a picture of him, and below the big
+print appeared the body of smaller type which named his particular
+features. Straight to this sign Andrew walked and sat down at the table
+beneath it.</p>
+
+<p>It was no hypnotic attraction that took him there. He knew perfectly
+well that if a man noticed that sign he would never dream of connecting
+the man for whom, dead or alive, ten thousand dollars was to be paid,
+with the man who sat underneath the picture calmly eating his lunch in
+the middle of a town. Even if some supercurious person should make a
+comparison, he would not proceed far with it, Andrew was sure, for the
+picture represented the round, young face of a person who hardly existed
+now; the hardened features of Andrew were now only a skinny caricature
+of what they had been.</p>
+
+<p>At any rate, Andrew sat down beneath the picture, and, <!-- Page 141 --><a name="Page_141"></a>instead of
+resting one elbow on the table and partially veiling his face with his
+hand, as he might most naturally have done, he tilted back easily in his
+chair and looked up at the poster. The fat man from behind the register
+had come to take his order. He noted the direction of Andrew's eyes
+while he jotted down the items.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You ain't the first,&quot; he said, &quot;that's looked at that. Think of the
+gent that'll get ten thousand dollars out of a single slug?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can name the man who'll get it,&quot; said Andrew, &quot;and his name is Hal
+Dozier.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I guess you ain't far wrong,&quot; replied the other. &quot;For that matter, the
+folks around here would mostly make the same guess. But maybe Hal's luck
+will take a turn.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; said Andrew, &quot;if he gets the money I'll say that he's earned it.
+And rush in some bread first, captain. I'm two-thirds starved.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was a historic meal in more than one way. The size of it was one
+notable feature, and even Andrew had to loosen his belt when he came to
+attack the main feature, which was a vast steak with fried eggs
+scattered over the top of it.</p>
+
+<p>The steak had been reduced to a meager rim before Andrew had any
+attention to pay to the paper which had been placed on his table. It was
+an eight-page sheet entitled <em>The Granville Bugle</em>, and a subhead
+announced that it was &quot;the greatest paper on the ranges and the
+cattleman's guide.&quot; Andrew found a picture on the first page, a picture
+of Hal Dozier, and over the picture the following caption: &quot;Watch this
+column for news of the Andrew Lanning hunt.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The article in this week's issue contained few facts. It announced a
+number of generalities: &quot;Marshal Hal Dozier, when interviewed, said&mdash;&quot;
+and a great many innocuous things which he was sure that grim hunter
+could not have spoken. He passed over the rest of the column in careless
+<!-- Page 142 --><a name="Page_142"></a>contempt. On the second page, in a muddle of short notices, one
+headline caught his eye and held it: &quot;Charles Merchant to Wed
+Society Belle.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The editor had spread his talents for the public eye in doing justice to
+it:</p>
+
+<p>On the fifteenth of the month will be consummated a romance which began
+last year, when Charles Merchant, son of the well-known cattle king,
+John Merchant, went East and met Miss Anne Withero. It is Miss Withero's
+second visit in the West, and it is now announced that the marriage&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Andrew crumpled the paper and let it fall. He glanced at a calender on
+the wall opposite him. There remained six days before the wedding.</p>
+
+<p>And he was still so stunned by that announcement that, raising his head
+slowly, his thoughts spinning, he looked up and encountered the eyes of
+Hal Dozier as the latter sank into a chair.</p>
+
+<p>He did not complete the act, but was arrested in midair, one hand
+grasping the back of the chair, the other hand at his hip. Andrew, in
+the space of an instant, thought of three things&mdash;to kick the table from
+him and try to get to the side door of the place, to catch up the heavy
+sugar bowl and attempt to bowl over his man with a well-directed blow,
+or to simply sit and look Hal Dozier in the eye.</p>
+
+<p>He had thought of the three things in the space that it would take a dog
+to snap at a fly and look away. He dismissed the first alternatives as
+absurd, and, picking up his cup of coffee, he raised his eyes slowly
+toward the ceiling, after the time-honored fashion of a man draining a
+glass, let his glance move gradually up and catch on the face of Dozier,
+and then, without haste, lowered the cup again to its saucer. <!-- Page 143 --><a name="Page_143"></a>The flush
+of his own heavy meal kept his pallor from showing. As for Dozier, there
+was a succession of changes in his features, and then he concluded by
+lowering himself heavily the rest of the way into his chair. He gave his
+order to the proprietor in a dazed fashion, looking straight at Andrew,
+and the latter knew perfectly that the deputy marshal felt that he was
+in a dream. He was seeing what was not possible to see; his eyes were
+telling his brain in definite terms: &quot;There sits Andrew Lanning and ten
+thousand dollars.&quot; But the reason of Dozier was speaking no less
+decidedly: &quot;There sits a man without a weapon at his hip and actually
+beneath the poster which offers a reward for the capture of the person
+he resembles. Also, he is in a restaurant in the middle of a town. I
+have only to raise my voice in order to surround him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And reason gained the upper hand, though Dozier continued to look at
+Andrew in a fascinated manner.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the outlaw knew that it would not do to disregard that glance
+so long continued. To disregard it would be to start the suspicions of
+Dozier as soon as his brain cleared.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hello, stranger,&quot; said Andrew, and he merely made his voice a trifle
+husky and deep. &quot;D'you know me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The eyes of Dozier widened, there was a convulsive motion of his arm,
+and then his glance wandered slowly away.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Excuse me,&quot; he said. &quot;I thought I remembered your face.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Should he let it rest at that? No, better risk a finishing touch. &quot;No
+harm done,&quot; he said in the same loud voice. &quot;Hey, captain, another cup
+of coffee, will you? And a cigar.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He tilted back in his chair and began to hum. And all the time his
+nerves were jumping, and that old frenzy was taking him by the throat,
+that bulldog eagerness for the fight. But fight emptyhanded&mdash;and against
+Hal Dozier? <!-- Page 144 --><a name="Page_144"></a>The restaurant owner brought Dozier's order, and then the
+coffee and the cigar to Andrew, and while the deputy continued to look
+with dumb fascination at Andrew with swift side glances, Andrew finished
+his second cup. He bit off the end of his cigar, asked for his check,
+and paid it, and then felt his nerves crumble and go to pieces.</p>
+
+<p>It was not Hal Dozier who sat there, but death itself that looked him in
+the face. One false move, one wrong gesture, would betray him. How could
+he tell? That very moment his expression might have altered into
+something which the marshal could not fail to recognize, and the moment
+that final touch came there would be a gun play swifter than the eye
+could follow&mdash;simply a flash of steel and a simultaneous explosion.</p>
+
+<p>Even now, with the cigar between his teeth, he knew that if he lighted a
+match, the match would tremble between his fingers, and that trembling
+would betray him to Dozier. Yet he must not sit there, either, with the
+cigar between his teeth, unlighted. It was a little thing, but the
+weight of a feather would turn the balance and loose on him the
+thunderbolt of Hal Dozier in action.</p>
+
+<p>But what could he do?</p>
+
+<p>He found a thing in the very deeps of his despair. He got up from his
+chair, pushed his hat calmly upon his head and walked straight to the
+deputy. He dropped both hands upon the edge of Hal's table and leaned
+across it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Got a light, partner?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>And standing there over the table, he knew that Dozier had at length
+finally and definitely recognized him; but that the numbed brain of the
+marshal refused to permit him to act. He believed and yet he dared not
+believe his belief. Andrew saw the glance of Dozier go to his hip&mdash;his
+hip which the holster had rubbed until it gleamed. But no matter&mdash;the
+gun was not there&mdash;and stunned again by that impossible fact Dozier
+reached back and brought up his <!-- Page 145 --><a name="Page_145"></a>hand bearing a match box. He took out a
+match. He lighted it, his brows drawing together and slackening all the
+time, and then he looked up, his eyes rising with the lighted match, and
+stared full into the eyes of Andrew.</p>
+
+<p>It was discovery undoubtedly&mdash;and how long would that mental paralysis
+last?</p>
+
+<p>Andrew looked straight back into those eyes. His cigar took the fire and
+sucked in the flame. A cloud of smoke puffed out and rolled toward Hal
+Dozier, and Andrew turned leisurely and walked toward the door.</p>
+
+<p>He was a yard from it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lanning!&quot; came a voice behind him, terrible, like a scream of pain.</p>
+
+<p>As he leaped forward a gun spoke heavily in the room. He heard the
+bullet crunch into the frame of the door; the door itself was split by
+the second shot as Andrew slammed it shut. Then he raced around the
+corner of the restaurant and made for the grove.</p>
+
+<p>There was not a sound behind him for a moment. Then a roar rose from the
+village and rushed after him. It gave him wings. And, looking back, he
+saw that Hal Dozier was not among the pursuers. No, half a dozen men
+were running, and firing as they ran, but there was not a rifle in the
+lot, and it takes a good man to land a bullet on the run where he is
+firing at a dodging target. The pursuers lost ground; they stopped and
+yelled for horses.</p>
+
+<p>But that was what Hal Dozier was doing now. He was jerking a saddle on
+the back of Gray Peter, and in sixty seconds he would be tearing out of
+Los Toros. In the same space Andrew was in his own saddle with a flying
+leap and spurring out of the trees.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><!-- Page 146 --><a name="Page_146"></a>CHAPTER 31</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>By one thing he knew the utter desperation of Hal Dozier. For the man
+had fired while Andrew's back was turned. The bullet had followed the
+warning cry as swiftly as the strike of a snake follows its rattle. Luck
+and his sudden leap forward had unbalanced the nice aim of Dozier, and
+perhaps his mental agitation had contributed to it. But, at any rate,
+Andrew was troubled as he cleared the edge of the trees and cantered
+Sally not too swiftly along the Little Silver River toward Las Casas
+mountains, a little east of south.</p>
+
+<p>He did not hurry her, partly because he wished to stay close and make
+sure of the number and force of his pursuers, and partly because he
+already had a lead sufficient to keep out of any but chance rifle shots.</p>
+
+<p>He had not long to wait. Men boiled out of the village like hornets out
+of a shaken nest. He could see them buckling on belts while they were
+riding with the reins in their teeth. And they came like the wind,
+yelling at the sight of their quarry. Who would not kill a horse for the
+sake of saying that he had been within pistol range of the great outlaw?
+But, fast as their horses ran, Dozier, on Gray Peter, was able to keep
+up with them and also to range easily from group to group. Truly, Gray
+Peter was a glorious animal! If he were allowed to stretch out after the
+mare, what would the result be?</p>
+
+<p>The pursuers, under the direction of Dozier, spread across the river
+bottom and, having formed so that no tricky doubling could leave them in
+the lurch on a blind trail, they began to use a new set of tactics.</p>
+
+<p>Dozier kept Gray Peter at a steady pace, never varying his <!-- Page 147 --><a name="Page_147"></a>gait. But,
+on either side of him groups of his followers urged their horses forward
+at breakneck speed. Three or four would send home the spurs and rush up
+the river bottom after Andrew. If he did not hurry on they opened fire
+with their rifles from a short distance and sent a hail of random
+bullets, but Andrew knew that a random bullet carries just as much force
+as a well-aimed one, and chance might be on the side of one of those
+shots. He dared not allow them to come too close. Yet his heart rejoiced
+as he watched the manner in which Sally accepted these challenges. She
+never once had to lurch into her racing gait; she took the rushes of the
+cow ponies behind her by merely lengthening her stride until the horses
+behind her were winded and had to fall back.</p>
+
+<p>If Andrew had let out Sally she would have walked away from them all,
+but he dared not do that. For, after he had run the heart out of the
+commoner ones, there remained Gray Peter in reserve, never changing his
+pace, never hurrying, falling often far back, as the groups one after
+another pushed close to Sally and made her spurt, gaining again when the
+spurts ended one by one.</p>
+
+<p>There were two hours of daylight; there was one hour of dusk; and all
+that time the crowd kept thrusting out its small groups, one after the
+other, reaching after Sally like different arms, and each time she
+answered the spurt, and always slipped away into a greater lead at the
+end of it. And then, while the twilight was turning into dark, Andrew
+looked back and saw the whole crowd rein in their horses and turn back.
+There remained a single figure following him, and that figure was easily
+seen, because it was a man on a gray horse. And then Andrew grasped the
+plan fully. The posse had played its part; the thing for which the
+mountain desert had waited was come at last, and Hal Dozier was going on
+to find his man single-handed and pull him down. <!-- Page 148 --><a name="Page_148"></a>Twice, before complete
+darkness set in, Andrew had been on the verge of turning and going back
+to accept the challenge of Hal Dozier. Always two things stopped him.
+There was first the fear of the man which he frankly admitted, and more
+than that was the feeling that one thing lay before him to be done
+before he could meet Dozier and end the long trail. He must see Anne
+Withero. She was about to be married and be drawn out of his world and
+into a new one. He felt it was more important than life or death to see
+her before that transformation took place. They would go East, no doubt.
+Two thousand miles, the law and the mountains would fence him away from
+her after that.</p>
+
+<p>During the last months he accepted her as he accepted the
+stars&mdash;something far away from him. Now, by some pretext, by some wile,
+he must live to see her once more. After that let Hal Dozier meet him
+when he would.</p>
+
+<p>But with this in mind, as soon as the utter dark shut down, he swerved
+Sally to the right and worked slowly up through the mountains, heading
+due southwest and out of the valley of the Little Silver. He kept at it,
+through a district where the mare could not even trot a great deal of
+the time, for two or more hours. Then he found a little plateau thick
+with good grazing for Sally and with a spring near it. There he camped
+for the night, without food, without fire.</p>
+
+<p>And not once during the hours before morning did he close his eyes. When
+the first gray touched the sky he was in the saddle again; before the
+sun was up he had crossed the Las Casas and was going down the great
+shallow basin of the Roydon River. A fine, drizzling rain was falling,
+and Sally, tired from her hard work of the day before and the long duels
+with the horses of the posse, went even more down-heartedly moody than
+usual, shuffling wearily, but recovering herself with her usual catlike
+adroitness whenever <!-- Page 149 --><a name="Page_149"></a>her footing failed on the steep downslope.</p>
+
+<p>For all her dullness, it was a signal from Sally that saved Andrew. She
+jerked up her head and turned; he looked in the same direction and saw a
+form like a gray ghost coming over the hills to his left, a dim shape
+through the rain. Gloomily Andrew watched Hal Dozier come. Gray Peter
+had been fresher than Sally at the end of the run of the day before. He
+was fresher now. Andrew could tell that easily by the stretch of his
+gallop and the evenness of his pace as he rushed across the slope. He
+gave the word to Sally. She tossed up her head in mute rebellion at this
+new call for a race, and then broke into a canter whose first few
+strides, by way of showing her anger, were as choppy and lifeless as the
+stride of a plow horse.</p>
+
+<p>That was the beginning of the famous ride from the Las Casas mountains
+to the Roydon range, and all the distance across the Roydon valley. It
+started with a five-mile sprint&mdash;literally five miles of hot racing in
+which each horse did its best. And in that five miles Gray Peter would
+most unquestionably have won had not one bit of luck fallen the mare. A
+hedge of young evergreen streaked before Sally, and Andrew put her at
+the mark; she cleared it like a bird, jumping easily and landing in her
+stride. It was not the first time she had jumped with Andrew.</p>
+
+<p>But Gray Peter was not a steeplechaser. He had not been trained to it,
+and he refused. His rider had to whirl and go up the line of shrubs
+until he found a place to break through. Then he was after Sally again.
+But the moment that Andrew saw the marshal had been stopped he did not
+use the interim to push the mare and increase her lead. Very wisely he
+drew her back to the long, rocking canter which was her natural gait,
+and Sally got the breath which Gray Peter had run out of her. She also
+regained priceless lost ground, and when the gray came in view of the
+quarry again his work was all to do over again. <!-- Page 150 --><a name="Page_150"></a>Hal Dozier tried again
+in straightaway running. It had been his boast that nothing under the
+saddle in the mountain desert could keep away from him in a stretch of
+any distance, and he rode Gray Peter desperately to make his boast good.
+He failed. If that first stretch had been unbroken&mdash;but there his chance
+was gone, and, starting the second spurt, Andrew came to realize one
+greatly important truth&mdash;Sally could not sprint for any distance, but up
+to a certain pace she ran easily and without labor. He made it his point
+to see that she was never urged beyond that pace. He found another
+thing, that she took a hill in far better style than Peter, and she did
+far better in the rough, but on the level going he ate up her
+handicap swiftly.</p>
+
+<p>With a strength of his own found and a weakness in his pursuer, Andrew
+played remorselessly to that weakness with his strength. He sought the
+choppy ground as a preference and led the stallion through it wherever
+he could; he swung to the right, where there was a stretch of rolling
+hills, and once more Gray Peter had a losing space before him.</p>
+
+<p>So they came to the river itself, with Gray Peter comfortably in the
+rear, but running well within his strength. Andrew paused in the
+shallows to allow Sally one swallow; then he went on. But Dozier did not
+pause for even this. It was a grave mistake.</p>
+
+<p>And so the miles wore on. Sally was still running like a swallow for
+lightness, but Andrew knew by her breathing that she was giving vital
+strength to the effort. He talked to her constantly. He told her how
+Gray Peter ran behind them. He encouraged her with pet words. And Sally
+seemed to understand, for she flicked one ear back to listen, and then
+she pricked them both and kept at her work.</p>
+
+<p>It was a heart-tearing thing to see her run to the point of lather and
+then keep on.</p>
+
+<p>They were in low hills, and Gray Peter was losing steadily. They reached
+a broad flat, and the stallion gained with <!-- Page 151 --><a name="Page_151"></a>terrible insistence. Looking
+back, Andrew could see that the marshal had stripped away every vestige
+of his pack. He followed that example with a groan. And still Gray
+Peter gained.</p>
+
+<p>It was the last great effort for the stallion. Before them rose the
+foothills of the Roydon mountains; behind them the Las Casas range was
+lost in mist. It seemed that they had been galloping like this for an
+infinity of time, and Andrew was numb from the shoulders down. If he
+reached those hills Gray Peter was beaten. He knew it; Hal Dozier knew
+it; and the two great horses gave all their strength to the last duel
+of the race.</p>
+
+<p>The ears of Sally no longer pricked. They lay flat on her neck. The
+amazing lift was gone from her gait, and she pounded heavily with the
+forelegs. And still she struggled on. He looked back, and Gray Peter
+still gained, an inch at a time, and his stride did not seem to have
+abated. The one bitter question now was whether Sally would not collapse
+under the effort. With every lurch of her feet, Andrew expected to feel
+her crumble beneath him. And yet she went on. She was all heart, all
+nerve, and running on it. Behind her came Gray Peter, and he also ran
+with his head stretched out.</p>
+
+<p>He was within rifle range now. Why did not Dozier fire? Perhaps he had
+set his heart on actually running Sally down, not dropping his prey with
+a distant shot.</p>
+
+<p>And still they flew across the flat. The hills were close now, and
+sometimes, when the drizzling rain lifted, it seemed that the Roydon
+mountains were exactly above them, leaning out over him like a shadow.
+He called on Sally again and again. He touched her for the first time in
+her life with spurs, and she found something in the depths of her heart
+and her courage to answer with. She ran again with a ghost of her former
+buoyancy, and Gray Peter was held even. <!-- Page 152 --><a name="Page_152"></a>Not an inch could he gain after
+that. Andrew saw his pursuer raise his quirt and flog. It was useless.
+Each horse was running itself out, and no power could get more speed out
+of the pounding limbs.</p>
+
+<p>And with his head still turned, Andrew felt a shock and flounder. Sally
+had almost fallen. He jerked sharply up on the reins, and she broke into
+a staggering trot. Then Andrew saw that they had struck the slope of the
+first hill, a long, smooth rise which she would have taken at full speed
+in the beginning of the race, but now though she labored bitterly, she
+could not raise a gallop. The trot was her best effort.</p>
+
+<p>There was a shrill yelling behind, and Andrew saw Dozier, a hand
+brandished above his head. He had seen Sally break down; Gray Peter
+would catch her; his horse would win that famous duel of speed and
+courage. Rifle? He had forgotten his rifle. He would go in, he would
+overhaul Sally, and then finish the chase with a play of revolvers. And
+in expectation of that end, Andrew drew his revolver. It hung the length
+of his arm; he found that his muscles were numb from the cold and the
+cramped position from the elbow down. Shoot? He was as helpless as
+though he had no gun at all. He beat his hands together to bring back
+the blood. He thrashed his arms against the pommel of the saddle. There
+was only a dull pain; it would take long minutes to bring those hands
+back to the point of service, and in the meantime Gray Peter galloped
+upon him from behind!</p>
+
+<p>Well, he would let Sally do her best. For the last time he called on
+her; for the last time she struggled to respond, and Andrew looked back
+and grimly watched the stallion sweeping across the last portion of the
+flat ground, closer, closer, and then, at the very base of the slope,
+Gray Peter tossed up his head, floundered, and went down, hurling his
+rider over his head. <!-- Page 153 --><a name="Page_153"></a>Andrew, fascinated, let Sally fall into a walk,
+while he watched the singular, convulsive struggles of Gray Peter to
+gain his feet. Hal Dozier was up again; he ran to his horse, caught his
+head, and at the same moment the stallion grew suddenly limp. The weight
+of his head dragged the marshal down, and then Andrew saw that Dozier
+made no effort to rise again.</p>
+
+<p>He sat with the head of the horse in his lap, his own head buried in his
+hands, and Andrew knew then that Gray Peter was dead.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 32</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>The mare herself was in a far from safe condition. And if the marshal
+had roused himself from his grief and hurried up the slope on foot he
+would have found the fugitive out of the saddle and walking by the side
+of the played-out Sally, forcing her with slaps on the hip to keep in
+motion. She went on, stumbling, her head down, and the sound of her
+breathing was a horrible thing to hear. But she must keep in motion,
+for, if she stopped in this condition, Sally would never run again.</p>
+
+<p>Andrew forced her relentlessly on. At length her head came up a little
+and her breathing was easier and easier. Before dark that night he came
+on a deserted shanty, and there he took Sally under the shelter, and,
+tearing up the floor, he built a fire which dried them both. The
+following day he walked again, with Sally following like a dog at his
+heels. One day later he was in the saddle again, and Sally was herself
+once more. Give her one feed of grain, and she would have run again that
+famous race from beginning to end. <!-- Page 154 --><a name="Page_154"></a>But Andrew, stealing out of the
+Roydon mountains into the lower ground, had no thought of another race.
+He was among a district of many houses, many men, and, for the final
+stage of his journey, he waited until after dusk had come and then
+saddled Sally and cantered into the valley.</p>
+
+<p>It was late on the fourth night after he left Los Toros that Andrew came
+again to the house of John Merchant and left Sally in the very place
+among the trees where the pinto had stood before. There was no danger of
+discovery on his approach, for it was a wild night of wind and rain. The
+drizzling mists of the last three days had turned into a steady
+downpour, and rivers of water had been running from his slicker on the
+way to the ranch house. Now he put the slicker behind the saddle, and
+from the shelter of the trees surveyed the house.</p>
+
+<p>It was bursting with music and light; sometimes the front door was
+opened and voices stole out to him; sometimes even through the closed
+door he heard the ghostly tinkling of some girl's laughter.</p>
+
+<p>And that was to Andrew the most melancholy sound in the world.</p>
+
+<p>The rain, trickling even through the foliage of the evergreen, decided
+him to act at once. It might be that all the noise and light were, after
+all, an advantage to him, and, running close to the ground, he skulked
+across the dangerous open stretch and came into the safe shadow of the
+wall of the house.</p>
+
+<p>Once there, it was easy to go up to the roof by one of the rain pipes,
+the same low roof from which he had escaped on the time of his last
+visit. On the roof the rush and drumming of the rain quite covered any
+sound he made, but he was drenched before he reached the window of
+Anne's room. Could he be sure that on her second visit she would have
+the same room? He settled that by a single glance. The curtain was not
+drawn, and a lamp, turned low, <!-- Page 155 --><a name="Page_155"></a>burned on the table beside the bed. The
+room was quite empty.</p>
+
+<p>The window was fastened, but he worked back the fastening iron with the
+blade of his knife and raised himself into the room. He closed the
+window behind him. At once the noise of rain and the shouting of the
+wind faded off into a distance, and the voices of the house came more
+clearly to him. But he dared not stay to listen, for the water was
+dripping around him; he must move before a large dark spot showed on the
+carpet, and he saw, moreover, exactly where he could best hide. There
+was a heavily curtained alcove at one end of the room, and behind this
+shelter he hid himself.</p>
+
+<p>And here he waited. How would she come? Would there be someone with her?
+Would she come laughing, with all the triumph of the dance bright in
+her face?</p>
+
+<p>Vaguely he heard the shrill droning of the violins die away beneath him,
+and the slipping of many dancing feet on a smooth floor fell to a
+whisper and then ceased. Voices sounded in the hall, but he gave no heed
+to the meaning of all this. Not even the squawking of horns, as
+automobiles drove away, conveyed any thought to him; he wished that this
+moment could be suspended to an eternity.</p>
+
+<p>Parties of people were going down the hall; he heard soft flights of
+laughter and many young voices. People were calling gaily to one another
+and then by an inner sense rather than by a sound he knew that the door
+was opened into the room. He leaned and looked, and he saw Anne Withero
+close the door behind her and lean against it. In the joy of her triumph
+that evening?</p>
+
+<p>No, her head was fallen, and he saw the gleam of her hand at her breast.
+He could not see her face clearly, but the bent head spoke eloquently of
+defeat. She came forward at length. <!-- Page 156 --><a name="Page_156"></a>Thinking of her as the reigning
+power in that dance and all the merriment below him, Andrew had been
+imagining her tall, strong, with compelling eyes commanding admiration.
+He found all at once that she was small, very small; and her hair was
+not that keen fire which he had pictured. It was simply a coppery glow,
+marvelously delicate, molding her face. She went to a great full-length
+mirror. She raised her head for one instant to look at her image, and
+then she bowed her head again and placed her hand against the edge of
+the mirror for support. Little by little, through the half light, he was
+making her out and now the curve of this arm, from wrist to shoulder,
+went through Andrew like a phrase of music. He stepped out from behind
+the curtain, and, at the sound of the cloth swishing back into place,
+she whirled on him.</p>
+
+<p>She was speechless; her raised hand did not fall; it was as if she were
+frozen where she stood.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall leave you at once,&quot; said Andrew quietly, &quot;if you are
+frightened. You have only to tell me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He had come closer. Now he was astonished to see her turn swiftly toward
+the door and touch his arm with her hand. &quot;Hush!&quot; she said. &quot;Hush! They
+may hear you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She glided to the door into the hall and turned the lock softly and came
+to him again.</p>
+
+<p>It made Andrew weak to see her so close, and he searched her face with a
+hungry and jealous fear, lest she should be different from his dream of
+her. &quot;You are the same,&quot; he said with a sigh of relief. &quot;And you are not
+afraid of me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hush! Hush!&quot; she repeated. &quot;Afraid of you? Don't you see that I'm
+happy, happy, happy to see you again?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She drew him forward a little, and her hand touched his as she did so.
+She turned up the lamp, and a flood of strong yellow light went over the
+room. &quot;<!-- Page 157 --><a name="Page_157"></a>But you have changed,&quot; said Anne Withero with a little cry. &quot;Oh,
+you have changed! They've been hounding you&mdash;the cowards!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Does it make no difference to you&mdash;that I have killed a man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, it was that brother to the Dozier man. But I've learned about him.
+He was a bloodhound like his brother, but treacherous. Besides, it was
+in fair fight. Fair fight? It was one against six!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't,&quot; said Andrew, breathing hard, &quot;don't say that! You make me feel
+that it's almost right to have done what I've done. But besides him&mdash;all
+the rest&mdash;do they make no difference?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All of what?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;People say things about me. They even print them.&quot; He winced as he
+spoke.</p>
+
+<p>But she was fierce again; her passion made her tremble.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When I think of it!&quot; she murmured. &quot;When I think of it, the rotten
+injustice makes me want to choke 'em all! Why, today I heard&mdash;I can't
+repeat it. It makes me sick&mdash;sick! Why, they've hounded you and bullied
+you until they've made you think you are bad, Andrew. They've even made
+you a little bit proud of the hard things people say about you. Isn't
+that true?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Was it any wonder that Andrew could not answer? He felt all at once so
+supple that he was hot tallow which those small fingers would mold and
+bend to suit themselves.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sit down here!&quot; she commanded.</p>
+
+<p>Meekly he obeyed. He sat on the edge of his chair, with his hat held
+with both hands, and his eyes widened as he stared at her&mdash;like a person
+coming out of a great darkness into a great light.</p>
+
+<p>And tears came into the eyes of the girl.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're as thin as a starved&mdash;wolf,&quot; she said, and closed her eyes and
+shuddered. &quot;<!-- Page 158 --><a name="Page_158"></a>And all the time I've been thinking of you as you were when
+I saw you here before&mdash;the same clear, steady eyes and the same direct
+smile. But they've made you older&mdash;they've burned the boy out of you
+with pain! And I've been thinking about you just cantering through wild,
+gay adventures. Are you ill now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He had leaned back in the chair and gathered his hat close to his
+breast, crushing it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm not ill,&quot; said Andrew. His voice was hoarse and thick. &quot;I'm just
+listening to you. Go on and talk.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;About you?&quot; asked the girl.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't hear your words&mdash;hardly; I just hear the sound you make.&quot; He
+leaned forward again and cast out his arm so that the palm of his hand
+was turned up beneath her eyes. She could see the long, lean fingers. It
+suddenly came home to her that every strong man in the mountain desert
+was in deadly terror of that hand. Anne Withero was shaken for the
+first time.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Listen to me,&quot; he was saying in that tense whisper which was oddly like
+the tremor of his hand, &quot;I've been hungry for that voice all these
+weeks&mdash;and months.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll tell you what I'm going to do,&quot; said the girl, very grave. &quot;I'm
+going to break up this cowardly conspiracy against you. I've written to
+my father to get the finest lawyer in the land and send him out here to
+make you&mdash;legal&mdash;again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He began to smile, and shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's no use,&quot; he said. &quot;Perhaps your lawyer could help me on account of
+Bill's death, but he couldn't help me from Hal.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are you&mdash;do you mean you're going to fight the other man, too?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He killed his horse chasing me,&quot; said Andrew. &quot;I couldn't stop to fight
+him because I was comin' down here to see you. But when I go away I've
+got to find him and give <!-- Page 159 --><a name="Page_159"></a>him a chance back at me. It's only fair.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Because he killed a horse trying to get you, you're going to give him a
+chance to shoot you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Her voice had become shrill. She lowered it instinctively toward the end
+and cast a glance of apprehension toward the door.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are quite mad,&quot; said the girl.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You don't understand,&quot; said Andrew. &quot;His horse was Gray Peter&mdash;the
+stallion. And I would rather have killed a man than have seen Gray Peter
+die. Hal had Peter's head in his arms,&quot; he added softly. &quot;And he'll
+never give up the trail until he's had it out with me. He wouldn't be
+half a man if he let things drop now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So you have to fight Hal Dozier?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But when that's done&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When that's done one of us will be dead. If it's me, of course, there's
+no use worryin'; if it's Hal, of course, I'm done in the eyes of the
+law. Two&mdash;murders!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His eyes glinted and his fingers quivered. It sent a cold thrill through
+the girl.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But they say he's a terrible man, Andrew. You wouldn't let him catch
+you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I won't stand and wait for him,&quot; said Andrew gravely. &quot;But if we fight
+I think I'll kill him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What makes you think that?&quot; She was more curious than shocked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's just a sort of feeling that you get when you look at a man; either
+you're his master or you aren't. You see it in a flash.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Have you ever seen your master?&quot; asked the girl slowly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll want to die when I see that,&quot; he said simply.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly she clenched her hands and sat straight up.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's got to be stopped,&quot; she said hotly. &quot;It's all nonsense, and I'm
+going to see that you're both stopped.&quot; &quot;<!-- Page 160 --><a name="Page_160"></a>Four days ago,&quot; he said, &quot;you
+could have taken me in the hollow of your hand. I would have come to you
+and gone from you at a nod. That time is about to end.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He paused a little, and looked at her in such a manner that she was
+frightened, but it was a pleasant fear. It made her interlace her
+fingers with nervous anxiety, but it set a fire in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That time is ending,&quot; said Andrew. &quot;You are about to be married.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And after that you will never look at me again, never think of me
+again?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hope not,&quot; he answered. &quot;I strongly hope not.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But why? Is a marriage a blot or a stain?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is a barrier,&quot; he answered.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Even to thoughts? Even to friendship?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A very strange thing happened in the excited mind of Anne Withero. It
+seemed to her that Charles Merchant sat, a filmy ghost, beside this
+tattered fugitive. He was speaking the same words that Andrew spoke, but
+his voice and his manner were to Andrew Lanning what moonshine is to
+sunlight. She had been thinking of Charles Merchant as a social asset;
+she began to think of him now as a possessing force. Anne Withero
+possessed by Charlie Merchant!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What you have told me,&quot; she said, &quot;means more than you may think to me.
+Have you come all this distance to tell me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All this distance to talk?&quot; he said. He seemed to sit back and wonder.
+&quot;Have I traveled four days?&quot; he went on. &quot;Has Gray Peter died, and have
+I been under Hal Dozier's rifle only to speak to you?&quot; He suddenly
+recalled himself.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, no! I have come to give you a wedding present.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He watched her color change.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are you angry? Is it wrong to give you a present?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; she answered in a singular, stifled voice. &quot;<!-- Page 161 --><a name="Page_161"></a>It is this watch.&quot; It
+was a large gold watch and a chain of very old make that he put into her
+hand. &quot;It is for your son,&quot; said Andrew.</p>
+
+<p>She stood up; he rose instinctively.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When I look at it I'm to remember that you are forgetting me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A little hush fell upon them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are you laughing at me, Anne?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He had never called her by her name before, and yet it came naturally
+upon his lips.</p>
+
+<p>She stood, indeed, with the same smile upon her lips, but her eyes were
+fixed and looked straight past him. And presently he saw a tear pass
+slowly down her face. Her hand remained without moving, with the watch
+in it exactly as he had placed it there.</p>
+
+<p>She had not stirred when he slipped without a noise through the window
+and was instantly swallowed in the rushing of the wind and rain.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 33</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>There was, as Andrew had understood for a long time, a sort of
+underground world of criminals even here on the mountain desert.
+Otherwise the criminals could not have existed for even a moment in the
+face of the organized strength of lawful society. Several times in the
+course of his wanderings Andrew had come in contact with links of the
+underground chain, and he learned what every fugitive learns&mdash;the safe
+stopping points in the great circuit of his flight.</p>
+
+<p>Three elements went into the making of that hidden society. There was
+first of all the circulating and active part, <!-- Page 162 --><a name="Page_162"></a>and this was composed of
+men actually known to be under the ban of the law and openly defying it.
+Beneath this active group lay a stratum much larger which served as a
+base for the operating criminals. This stratum was built entirely of men
+who had at one time been incriminated in shady dealings of one sort and
+another. It included lawbreakers from every part of the world, men who
+had fled first of all to the shelter of the mountain desert and who had
+lived there until their past was even forgotten in the lands from which
+they came. But they had never lost the inevitable sympathy for their
+more active fellows, and in this class there was included a meaner
+element&mdash;men who had in the past committed crimes in the mountain desert
+itself and who, from time to time, when they saw an absolutely safe
+opportunity, were perfectly ready and willing to sin again.</p>
+
+<p>The third and largest of all the elements in the criminal world of the
+desert was a shifting and changing class of men who might be called the
+paid adherents of the active order. The &quot;long riders,&quot; acting in groups
+or singly, fled after the commission of a crime and were forced to find
+places of rest and concealment along their journey. Under this grave
+necessity they quickly learned what people on their way could be hired
+as hosts and whose silence and passive aid could be bought. Such men
+were secured in the first place by handsome bribes. And very often they
+joined the ranks unwillingly. But when some peaceful householder was
+confronted by a desperate man, armed, on a weary horse&mdash;perhaps stained
+from a wound&mdash;the householder was by no means ready to challenge the
+man's right to hospitality. He never knew when the stranger would take
+by force what was refused to him freely, and, if the lawbreaker took by
+force, he was apt to cover his trail by a fresh killing.</p>
+
+<p>Of course, such killings took place only when the &quot;long rider&quot; was a
+desperate brute rather than a man, but enough of them had occurred to
+call up vivid examples to every <!-- Page 163 --><a name="Page_163"></a>householder who was accosted. As a rule
+he submitted to receive the unwelcome guest. Also, as a rule, he was
+weak enough to accept a gift when the stranger parted. Once such a gift
+was taken, he was lost. His name was instantly passed on by the fugitive
+to his fellows as a &quot;safe&quot; man. Before long he became, against or with
+his will, a depository of secrets&mdash;banned faces became known to him. And
+if he suddenly decided to withdraw from that criminal world his case was
+most precarious.</p>
+
+<p>The &quot;long riders&quot; admitted no neutrals. If a man had once been with them
+he could only leave them to become an enemy. He became open prey. His
+name was published abroad. Then his cattle were apt to disappear. His
+stacks of hay might catch fire unexpectedly at night. His house itself
+might be plundered, and, in not infrequent cases, the man himself was
+brutally murdered. It was part of a code no less binding because it was
+unwritten.</p>
+
+<p>All of this Andrew was more or less aware of, and scores of names had
+been mentioned to him by chance acquaintances of the road. Such names he
+stored away, for he had always felt that time impending of which Henry
+Allister had warned him, the time when he must openly forget his
+scruples and take to a career of crime. That time, he now knew, was
+come upon him.</p>
+
+<p>It would be misrepresenting Andrew to say that he shrank from the
+future. Rather he accepted everything that lay before him
+wholeheartedly, and, with the laying aside of his scruples, there was an
+instant lightening of the heart, a fierce keenness of mind, a contempt
+for society, a disregard for life beginning with his own. One could have
+noted it in the recklessness with which he sent Sally up the slope away
+from the ranch house this night.</p>
+
+<p>He had made up his mind immediately to hunt out a &quot;safe&quot; man, recently
+mentioned to him by that unconscionable scapegrace Harry Woods, crooked
+gambler, thief of <!-- Page 164 --><a name="Page_164"></a>small and large, and whilom murderer. The man's name
+was Garry Baldwin, a small rancher, some half day's ride above
+Sullivan's place in the valley. He was recommended as a man of silence.
+In that direction Andrew took his way, but, coming in the hills to a
+dished-out place on a hillside, where there was a natural shelter from
+both wind and rain, he stopped there for the rest of the night, cooked a
+meal, rolled himself in his blankets, and slept into the gray of
+the morning.</p>
+
+<p>No sooner was the first light streaking the horizon to the east than
+Andrew wakened. He saddled Sally and, after a leisurely breakfast,
+started at a jog trot through the hills, taking the upslope with the
+utmost care. For nothing so ruins a horse as hard work uphill at the
+very beginning of the day. He gave Sally her head, and by letting her go
+as she pleased she topped the divide, breathing as easily as if she had
+been walking on the flat. She gave one toss of her head as she saw the
+long, smooth slope ahead of her, and then, without a word from Andrew or
+a touch of his heels, she gave herself up to the long, rocking canter
+which she could maintain so tirelessly for hour on hour.</p>
+
+<p>A clear, cold morning came on. Indeed, it was rarely chill for the
+mountain desert, with a feel of coming snow in the wind. Sally pricked
+one ear as she looked into the north, and Andrew knew that that was a
+sign of trouble coming.</p>
+
+<p>He came in the middle of the morning to the house of Garry Baldwin. It
+was a wretched shack, the roof sagged in the middle, and the building
+had been held from literally falling apart by bolting an iron rod
+through the length of it.</p>
+
+<p>A woman who fitted well into such a background kicked open the door and
+looked up to Andrew with the dishwater still dripping from her red
+hands. He asked for her husband. He was gone from the house. Where, she
+did not know. Somewhere yonder, and her gesture included half the width
+of the horizon to the west. There was his trail, if <!-- Page 165 --><a name="Page_165"></a>Andrew wished to
+follow it. For her part, she was busy and could not spare time to
+gossip. At that she stepped back and kicked the door shut with a slam
+that set the whole side of the shack shivering.</p>
+
+<p>At that moment Andrew wondered what he would have done when he lived in
+Martindale if he had been treated in such a manner. He would have
+crimsoned to the eyes, no doubt, and fled from the virago. But now he
+felt neither embarrassment nor fear nor anger. He drew his revolver, and
+with the heavy butt banged loudly on the door. It left three deep dents
+in the wood, and the door was kicked open again. But this time he saw
+only the foot of the woman clad in a man's boot. The door remained open,
+but the hostess kept out of view.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You be ridin' on, friend,&quot; she called in her harsh voice. &quot;Bud, keep
+out'n the kitchen. Stranger, you be ridin' on. I don't know you and I
+don't want to know you. A man that beats on doors with his gun!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Andrew laughed, and the sound brought her into view, a furious face, but
+a curious face as well. She carried a long rifle slung easily under her
+stout arm.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What d'you want with Garry?&quot; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>And he replied with a voice equally hard: &quot;I want direction for finding
+Scar-faced Allister.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He watched that shot shake her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You do? You got a hell of a nerve askin' around here for Allister!
+Slope, kid, slope. You're on a cold trail.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wait a minute,&quot; protested Andrew. &quot;You need another look at me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can see all there is to you the first glance,&quot; said the woman calmly.
+&quot;Why should I look again?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To see the reward,&quot; said Andrew bitterly. He laughed again. &quot;I'm Andrew
+Lanning. Ever hear of me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was obvious that she had. She blinked and winced as though the name
+stunned her. &quot;Lanning!&quot; she said. &quot;Why, <!-- Page 166 --><a name="Page_166"></a>you ain't much more'n a kid.
+Lanning! And you're him?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>All at once she melted.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Slide off your hoss and come in, Andy,&quot; she said. &quot;Dogged if I knew you
+at all!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thanks. I want to find Allister and I'm in a hurry.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So you and him are goin' to team it? That'll be high times! Come here,
+Bud. Look at Andy Lanning. That's him on the horse right before you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A scared, round face peered out at Andrew from behind his mother. &quot;All
+right, partner. I'll tell you where to find him pretty close. He'll be
+up the gulch along about now. You know the old shack up there? You can
+get to him inside three hours&mdash;with that hoss.&quot; She stopped and eyed
+Sally. &quot;Is that the one that run Gray Peter to death? She don't look the
+part, but them long, low hosses is deceivin'. Can't you stay, Andy?
+Well, s'long. And give Allister a good word from Bess Baldwin. Luck!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He waved, and was gone at a brisk gallop.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 34</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>It was not yet noon when he entered the gulch, he was part way up the
+ravine when something moved at the top of the high wall to his right. He
+guessed at once that it was a lookout signaling the main party of the
+approach of a stranger, so Andrew stopped Sally with a word and held his
+hand high above his head, facing the point from which he had seen the
+movement. There was a considerable pause; then a man showed on the top
+of the cliff, and Andrew recognized Jeff Rankin by his red hair. Yet
+they were at too great a distance for conversation, and after waving a
+greeting, Rankin merely beckoned Andrew on his way up the <!-- Page 167 --><a name="Page_167"></a>valley.
+Around the very next bend of the ravine he found the camp. It was of the
+most impromptu character, and the warning of Rankin had caused them to
+break it up precipitately, as Andrew could see by one length of
+tarpaulin tossed, without folding, over a saddle. Each of the four was
+ready, beside his horse, for flight or for attack, as their outlook on
+the cliff should give signal. But at sight of Andrew and the bay mare a
+murmur, then a growl of interest went among them. Even Larry la Roche
+grinned a skull-like welcome, and Henry Allister actually ran forward to
+receive the newcomer. Andrew dropped out of the saddle and shook
+hands with him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've done as you said I would,&quot; said Andrew. &quot;I've run in a circle,
+Allister, and now I'm back to make one of you, if you still want me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Allister, laughing joyously, turned to the other three and repeated the
+question to them. There was only one voice in answer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Want you?&quot; said Allister, and his smile made Andrew almost forget the
+scar which twisted the otherwise handsome face. &quot;Want you? Why, man, if
+we've been beyond the law up to this time, we can laugh at the law now.
+Sit down. Hey, Scottie, shake up the fire and put on some coffee, will
+you? We'll take an hour off.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Larry la Roche was observed to make a dour face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who'll tell me it's lucky,&quot; he said, &quot;to have a gent that starts out by
+makin' us all stop on the trail? Is that a good sign?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Scottie, with laughter, hushed him. Yet Larry la Roche remained of
+all the rest quite silent during the making of the coffee and the
+drinking of it. The others kept up a running fire of comments and
+questions, but Larry la Roche, as though he had never forgiven Andrew
+for their first quarrel, remained with his long, bony chin dropped <!-- Page 168 --><a name="Page_168"></a>upon
+his breast and followed the movements of Andrew Lanning with
+restless eyes.</p>
+
+<p>The others were glad to see him, as Andrew could tell at a glance, but
+also they were a bit troubled, and by degrees he made out the reason.
+Strange as it seemed, they regretted that he had not been able to make
+his break across the mountains. His presence made them more impregnable
+than they had ever been under the indomitable Allister, and yet, more
+than the aid of his fighting hand, they would have welcomed the tidings
+of a man who had broken away from the shadow of the law and made good.
+For each of the fallen wishes to feel that his exile is self-terminable.</p>
+
+<p>And therefore Andrew, telling his story to them in brief, found that
+they were not by any means filled with unmixed pleasure. Joe Clune, with
+his bright brown hair of youth and his lined, haggard face of worn
+middle age, summed up their sentiments at the end of Andrew's story:
+&quot;You're what we need with us, Lanning. You and Allister will beat the
+world, and it means high times for the rest of us, but God pity
+you&mdash;that's all!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The pause that followed this solemn speech was to Andrew like an amen.
+He glanced from face to face, and each stern eye met his in
+gloomy sympathy.</p>
+
+<p>Then something shot through him which was to his mind what red is to the
+eye; it was a searing touch of reckless indifference, defiance.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Forget this prayer-meeting talk,&quot; said Andrew. &quot;I came up here for
+action, not mourning. I want something to do with my hands, not
+something to think about with my head!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Something to think about! It was like a terror behind him. If he should
+have long quiet it would steal on him and look at him over his shoulder
+like a face. A little of this <!-- Page 169 --><a name="Page_169"></a>showed in his face; enough to make the
+circle flash significant glances at one another.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You got something behind you, Andy,&quot; said Scottie. &quot;Come out with it.
+It ain't too bad for us to hear.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There's something behind me,&quot; said Andrew. &quot;It's the one really decent
+part of my life. And I don't want to think about it. Allister, they say
+you never let the grass grow under you. What's on your hands now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Somebody has been flattering me,&quot; said the leader quietly, and all the
+time he kept studying the face of Andrew. &quot;We have a little game ahead,
+if you want to come in on it. We're shorthanded, but I'd try it with
+you. That makes us six all told. Six enough, boys?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Count me half of one,&quot; said Larry la Roche. &quot;I don't feel lucky about
+this little party.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We'll count you two times two,&quot; replied the leader. He added: &quot;You boys
+play a game; I'm going to break in Lanning to our job.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Taking his horse, he and Andrew rode at a walk up the ravine. On the way
+the leader explained his system briefly and clearly. Told in short, he
+worked somewhat as follows: Instead of raiding blindly right and left,
+he only moved when he had planned every inch of ground for the advance
+and the blow and the retreat. To make sure of success and the size of
+his stakes he was willing to invest heavily.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Big business men sink half a year's income in their advertising. I do
+the same.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was not public advertising; it was money cunningly expended where it
+would do most good. Fifty per cent of the money the gang earned was laid
+away to make future returns surer. In twenty places Allister had his
+paid men who, working from behind the scenes, gained priceless
+information and sent word of it to the outlaw. Trusted officials in
+great companies were in communication with him. When large shipments of
+gold were to be made, for instance, <!-- Page 170 --><a name="Page_170"></a>he was often warned beforehand.
+Every dollar of the consignment was known to him, the date of its
+shipment, its route, and the hands to which it was supposed to fall. Or,
+again, in many a bank and prosperous mercantile firm in the mountain
+desert he had inserted his paid spies, who let him know when the safe
+was crammed with cash and by what means the treasure was guarded.</p>
+
+<p>Not until he had secured such information did the leader move. And he
+still delayed until every possible point of friction had been noted,
+every danger considered, and a check appointed for it, every method of
+advance and retreat gone over.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A good general,&quot; Allister was fond of saying, &quot;plans in two ways: for
+an absolute victory and for an absolute defeat. The one enables him to
+squeeze the last ounce of success out of a triumph; the other keeps a
+failure from turning into a catastrophe.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>With everything arranged for the stroke, he usually posted himself with
+the band as far as possible from the place where the actual work was to
+be done. Then he made a feint in the opposite direction&mdash;he showed
+himself or a part of his gang recklessly. The moment the alarm was
+given&mdash;even at the risk of having an entire hostile countryside around
+him&mdash;he started a whirlwind course in the opposite direction from which
+he was generally supposed to be traveling. If possible, at the ranches
+of adherents, or at out-of-the-way places where confederates could act,
+he secured fresh horses and dashed on at full speed all the way.</p>
+
+<p>Then, at the very verge of the place for attack, he gathered his men,
+rehearsed in detail what each man was to do, delivered the blow, secured
+the spoils, and each man of the party split away from the others and
+fled in scattering directions, to assemble again at a distant point on a
+comparatively distant date. There they sat down around a council <!-- Page 171 --><a name="Page_171"></a>table,
+and there they divided the spoils. No matter how many were employed, no
+matter how vast a proportion of the danger and scheming had been borne
+by the leader, he took no more than two shares. Then fifty per cent of
+the prize was set aside. The rest was divided with an exact care among
+the remaining members of the gang. The people who had supplied the
+requisite information for the coup were always given their share.</p>
+
+<p>From this general talk Allister descended to particulars. He talked of
+the gang itself. They were quite a fixed quantity. In the last half
+dozen years there had not been three casualties. For one thing, he chose
+his men with infinite care; in the second place, he saw to it that they
+remained in harmony, and to that end he was careful never to be tempted
+into forming an unwieldy crew, no matter how large the prize. Of the
+present organization each was an expert. Larry la Roche had been a
+counterfeiter and was a consummate penman. His forgeries were works of
+art. &quot;Have you noticed his hands?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Scottie Macdougal was an eminent advance agent, whose smooth tongue was
+the thing for the very dangerous and extremely important work of trying
+out new sources of information, noting the dependability of those
+sources, and understanding just how far and in what line the tools could
+be used. Joe Clune was a past expert in the blowing of safes; not only
+did he know everything that was to be known about means of guarding
+money and how to circumvent them, but he was an artist with the &quot;soup,&quot;
+as Allister called nitroglycerin.</p>
+
+<p>Jeff Rankin, without a mental equipment to compare with his companions,
+was often invaluable on account of his prodigious strength. Under the
+strain of his muscles, iron bars bent like hot wax. In addition he had
+more than his share of an ability which all the members of the gang
+possessed&mdash;an infinite cunning in the use of weapons and a
+<!-- Page 172 --><a name="Page_172"></a>star-storming courage and self-confidence.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And where,&quot; said Andrew at the end of this long recital, &quot;do I fit in?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You begin,&quot; said Allister, &quot;as the least valuable of my men; before six
+months you will be worth the whole set of 'em. You'll start as my
+lieutenant, Lanning. The boys expect it. You've built up a reputation
+that counts. They admit your superiority without question. Larry la
+Roche squirms under the weight of it, but he admits it like the rest of'
+em. In a pinch they would obey you nearly as well as they obey me. It
+means that, having you to take charge, I can do what I've always wanted
+to do&mdash;I can give the main body the slip and go off for advance-guard
+and rear-guard duty. I don't dare to do it now.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you know why? Those fellows yonder, who seem so chummy, would be at
+each other's throats in ten seconds if I weren't around to keep them in
+order. I know why you're here, Lanning. It isn't the money. It's the
+cursed fear of loneliness and the fear of having time to think. You want
+action, action to fill your mind and blind you. That's what I offer you.
+You're the keeper of the four wildcats you see over there. You start in
+with their respect. Let them lose their fear of you for a moment and
+they'll go for you. Treat them like men; think of them as wild beasts.
+That's what they are. The minute they know you're without your whip they
+go for you like tigers at a wounded trainer. One taste of meat is all
+they need to madden them. It's different with me. I'm wild, too.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His eyes gleamed at Andrew.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And, if they raise you, I think they'll find you've more iron hidden
+away in you than I have. But the way they'll find it out will be in an
+explosion that will wipe them out. You've got to handle them without
+that explosion, Lanning. Can you do it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The younger man moistened his lips. &quot;I think this job is <!-- Page 173 --><a name="Page_173"></a>going to prove
+worth while,&quot; he returned.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very well, then. But there are penalties in your new position. In a
+pinch you've got to do what I do&mdash;see that they have food enough&mdash;go
+without sleep if one of them needs your blankets&mdash;if any of 'em gets in
+trouble, even into a jail, you've got to get him out.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Better still,&quot; smiled Andrew.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And now,&quot; said the leader, &quot;I'll tell you about our next job as we go
+back to the boys.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 35</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>It was ten days later when the band dropped out of the mountains into
+the Murchison Pass&mdash;a singular place for a train robbery, Andrew could
+not help thinking. They were at the southwestern end of the pass, where
+the mountains gave back in a broad gap. Below them, not five miles away,
+was the city of Gidding Creek; they could see its buildings and parks
+tumbled over a big area, for there was a full twenty-five thousand of
+inhabitants in Gidding Creek. Indeed, the whole country was dotted with
+villages and towns, for it was no longer a cattle region, but a
+semifarming district cut up into small tracts. One was almost never out
+of sight of at least one house.</p>
+
+<p>It worried Andrew, this closely built country, and he knew that it
+worried the other men as well; yet there had not been a single murmur
+from among them as they jogged their horses on behind Allister. Each of
+them was swathed from head to heels in a vast slicker that spread
+behind, when the wind caught it, as far as the tail of the horse. And
+the rubber creaked and rustled softly. Whatever they might <!-- Page 174 --><a name="Page_174"></a>have been
+inclined to think of this daring raid into the heart of a comparatively
+thickly populated country, they were too accustomed to let the leader do
+their thinking for them to argue the point with him. And Andrew followed
+blindly enough. He saw, indeed, one strong point in their favor. The
+very fact that the train was coming out of the heart of the mountains,
+through ravines which afforded a thousand places for assault, would make
+the guards relax their attention as they approached Gidding Creek. And,
+though there were many people in the region, they were a fat and
+inactive populace, not comparable with the lean fellows of the north.</p>
+
+<p>There was bitter work behind them. Ten days before they had made a feint
+to the north of Martindale that was certain to bring out Hal Dozier;
+then they doubled about and had plodded steadily south, choosing always
+the most desolate ground for their travel. There had been two changes of
+horses for the others, but Andrew kept to Sally. To her that journey was
+play after the labor she had passed through before; the iron dust of
+danger and labor was in her even as it was in Andrew. Three in all that
+party were fresh at the end of the long trail. They were Allister,
+Sally, and Andrew. The others were poisoned with weariness, and their
+tempers were on edge; they kept an ugly silence, and if one of them
+happened to jostle the horse of the other, there was a flash of teeth
+and eyes&mdash;a silent warning. The sixth man was Scottie, who had long
+since been detached from the party. His task was one which, if he failed
+in it, would make all that long ride go for nothing. He was to take the
+train far up, ride down as blind baggage to the Murchison Pass, and then
+climb over the tender into the cab, stick up the fireman and the
+engineer, and make them bring the engine to a halt at the mouth of the
+pass, with Gidding Creek and safety for all that train only five minutes
+<!-- Page 175 --><a name="Page_175"></a>away. There was a touch of the Satanic in this that pleased Andrew and
+made Allister show his teeth in self-appreciation.</p>
+
+<p>So perfectly had their journey been timed that the train was due in a
+very few minutes. They disposed their horses in the thicket, and then
+went back to take up their position in the ambush. The plan of work was
+carefully divided. To Jeff Rankin, that nicely accurate shot and bulldog
+fighter, fell what seemed to be a full half of the total risk and labor.
+He was to go to the blind side of the job. In other words, he was to
+guard the opposite side of the train to that on which the main body
+advanced. It was always possible that when a train was held up the
+passengers&mdash;at least the unarmed portion, and perhaps even some of the
+armed men&mdash;would break away on the least threatened side. Jeff Rankin on
+that blind side was to turn them back with a hurricane of bullets from
+his magazine rifle. Firing from ambush and moving from place to place,
+he would seem more than one man. Probably three or four shots would turn
+back the mob. In the meantime, having made the engineer and fireman stop
+the train, Scottie would be making them continue to flood the fire box.
+This would delay the start of the engine on its way and gain precious
+moments for the fugitives. Two of the band would be thus employed while
+Larry la Roche went through the train and turned out the passengers.
+There was no one like Larry for facing a crowd and cowing it. His
+spectral form, his eyes burning through the holes in his mask, stripped
+them of any idea of resistance.</p>
+
+<p>While the crowd turned out, Andrew, standing opposite the middle of the
+train, rifle in hand, would line them up, while Allister and Joe Clune
+attended to overpowering the guards of the safe, and Larry la Roche came
+out and went through the line of passengers for personal valuables, and
+<!-- Page 176 --><a name="Page_176"></a>Clune and Allister fixed the soup to blow the safe. Last of all, there
+was the explosion, the carrying off of the coin in its canvas sacks to
+the horses. Each man was to turn his horse in a direction carefully
+specified, and, riding in a roundabout manner, which was also named, he
+was to keep on until he came, five days later, to a deserted, ruinous
+shack far up in the mountains on the side of the Twin Eagles peaks.</p>
+
+<p>These were the instructions which Allister went over carefully with each
+member of his crew before they went to their posts. There had been
+twenty rehearsals before, and each man was letter perfect. They took
+their posts, and Allister came to the side of Andrew among the trees.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How are you?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Scared to death,&quot; said Andrew truthfully. &quot;I'd give a thousand dollars,
+if I had it, to be free of this job.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Andrew saw that hard glint come in the eyes of the leader.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You'll do&mdash;later,&quot; nodded Allister. &quot;But keep back from the crowd.
+Don't let them see you get nervous when they turn out of the coaches. If
+you show a sign of wavering they might start something. Once they make a
+surge, shooting won't stop 'em.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Andrew nodded. There was more practical advice on the heels of this.
+Then they stood quietly and waited.</p>
+
+<p>For days and days a northeaster had been blowing; it had whipped little
+drifts of rain and mist that stung the face and sent a chill to the
+bone, and, though there had been no actual downpour, the cold and the
+wet had never broken since the journey started. Now the wind came like a
+wolf down the Murchison Pass, howling and moaning. Andrew, closing his
+eyes, felt that the whole thing was dreamlike. Presently he would open
+his eyes and find himself back beside the fire in the house of Uncle
+Jasper, with the old man prodding his shoulder and telling him that it
+was bedtime. <!-- Page 177 --><a name="Page_177"></a>When he opened his eyes, in fact, they fell upon a
+solitary pine high up on the opposite slope, above the thicket where
+Jeff Rankin was hiding. It was a sickly tree, half naked of branches,
+and it shivered like a wretched animal in the wind. Then a new sound
+came down the pass, wolflike, indeed; it was repeated more clearly&mdash;the
+whistle of a train.</p>
+
+<p>It was the signal arranged among them for putting on the masks, and
+Andrew hastily adjusted his.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did you hear that?&quot; asked Allister as the train hooted in the distance
+again.</p>
+
+<p>Andrew turned and started at the ghostly thing which had been the face
+of the outlaw a moment before; he himself must look like that, he knew.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That voicelike whistle,&quot; said Allister. &quot;There's no luck in this
+day&mdash;for me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You've listened to Larry la Roche too much,&quot; said Andrew. &quot;He's been
+growling ever since we started on this trail.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, no!&quot; returned Allister. &quot;It's another thing, an older thing than
+Larry la Roche. My mother&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He stopped. Whatever it was that he was about to say, Andrew was never
+to hear it. The train had turned the long bend above, and now the roar
+of its wheels filled the ca&ntilde;on and covered the sound of the wind.</p>
+
+<p>It looked vast as a mountain as it came, rocking perceptibly on the
+uneven roadbed. It rounded the curve, the tail of the train flicked
+around, and it shot at full speed straight for the mouth of the pass.
+How could one man stop it? How could five men attack it after it was
+stopped? It was like trying to storm a medieval fortress with a popgun.</p>
+
+<p>The great black front of the engine came rocking toward them, gathering
+impetus on the sharp grade. Had Scottie missed his trick? But when the
+thunder of the iron on iron <!-- Page 178 --><a name="Page_178"></a>was deafening Andrew, and the engine seemed
+almost upon them, there was a cloud of white vapor that burst out on
+either side of it and the brakes were jumped on; the wheels skidded,
+screaming on the tracks. The engine lurched past; Andrew caught a
+glimpse of Scottie, a crouched, masked form in the cab of the engine,
+with a gun in either hand. For Scottie was one of the few natural
+two-gun men that Andrew was ever to know. The engineer and the fireman
+he saw only as two shades before they were whisked out of his view. The
+train rumbled on; then it went from half speed to a stop with one jerk
+that brought a cry from the coaches. During the next second there was
+the successive crashing of couplings as the coaches took up their slack.</p>
+
+<p>Andrew, stepping out with his rifle balanced in his hands, saw Larry la
+Roche whip into the rear car. Then he himself swept the windows of the
+train, blurred by the mist, with the muzzle of his gun, keeping the butt
+close to his shoulder, ready for a swift snapshot in any direction. In
+fact, his was that very important post, the reserve force, which was to
+come instantly to the aid of any overpowered section of the active
+workers. He had rebelled against this minor task, but Allister had
+assured him that, in former times, it was the place which he took
+himself to meet crises in the attack.</p>
+
+<p>The leader had gone with Joe Clune straight for the front car. How would
+they storm it? Two guards, armed to the teeth, would be in it, and the
+door was closed.</p>
+
+<p>But the guards had no intention to remain like rats in a trap, while the
+rest of the train was overpowered and they themselves were blasted into
+small bits with a small charge of soup. The door jerked open, the
+barrels of two guns protruded. Andrew, thrilling with horror, recognized
+one as a sawed-off shotgun. He saw now the meaning of the manner in
+which Allister and Clune made their attack. For <!-- Page 179 --><a name="Page_179"></a>Allister had run slowly
+straight for the door, while Clune skirted in close to the cars, going
+more swiftly. As the gun barrels went up Allister plunged headlong to
+the ground, and the volley of shot missed him cleanly; but Clune the
+next moment leaped out from the side of the car, and, thereby getting
+himself to an angle from which he could deliver a cross fire, pumped two
+bullets through the door. Andrew saw a figure throw up its arms, a
+shadow form in the interior of the car, and then a man pitched out
+headlong through the doorway and flopped with horrible limpness on the
+roadbed. While this went on Allister had snapped a shot, while he still
+lay prone, and his single bullet brought a scream. The guards were
+done for.</p>
+
+<p>Two deaths, Andrew supposed. But presently a man was sent out of the car
+at the point of Clune's revolver. He climbed down with difficulty,
+clutching one hand with the other. He had been shot in the most painful
+place in the body&mdash;the palm of the hand. Allister turned over the other
+form with a brutal carelessness that sickened Andrew. But the man had
+been only stunned by a bullet that plowed its way across the top of his
+skull. He sat up now with a trickle running down his face. A gesture
+from Andrew's rifle made him and his companion realize that they were
+covered, and, without attempting any further resistance, they sat side
+by side on the ground and tended to each other's wounds&mdash;a ludicrous
+group for all their suffering.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime, Clune and Allister were at work in the car; the water
+was hissing in the fire box as a vast cloud of steam came rushing out
+around the engine; the passengers were pouring out of the cars. They
+acted like a group of actors, carefully rehearsed for the piece. Not
+once did Andrew have to speak to them, while they ranged in a solid
+line, shoulder to shoulder, men, women, children. And then Larry la
+Roche went down the line with a saddlebag and took up the collection.
+&quot;<!-- Page 180 --><a name="Page_180"></a>Passin' the hat so often has give me a religious touch, ladies and
+gents,&quot; Andrew heard the ruffian say. &quot;Any little contributions I'm sure
+grateful for, and, if anything's held back, I'm apt to frisk the gent
+that don't fork over. Hey, you, what's that lump inside your coat? Lady,
+don't lie. I seen you drop it inside your dress. Why, it's a nice little
+set o' sparklers. That ain't nothin' to be ashamed of. Come on, please;
+a little more speed. Easy there, partner; don't take both them hands
+down at once. You can peel the stuff out of your pockets with one hand,
+I figure. Conductor, just lemme see your wallet. Thanks! Hate to bother
+you, ma'am, but you sure ain't traveling on this train with only
+eighty-five cents in your pocketbook. Just lemme have a look at the
+rest. See if you can't find it in your stocking. No, they ain't anything
+here to make you blush. You're among friends, lady; a plumb friendly
+crowd. Your poor old pa give you this to go to school on, did he? Son,
+you're gettin' a pile more education out of this than you would in
+college. No, honey, you just keep your locket. It ain't worth five
+dollars. Did you? That jeweler ought to have my job, 'cause he sure
+robbed you! You call that watch an heirloom? Heirloom is my middle name,
+miss. Just get them danglers out'n your ears, lady. Thanks! Don't hurry,
+mister; you'll bust the chain.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His monologue was endless; he had a comment for every person in the
+line, and he seemed to have a seventh sense for concealed articles. The
+saddlebag was bulging before he was through. At the same time Allister
+and Clune jumped from the car and ran. Larry la Roche gave the warning.
+Every one crouched or lay down. The soup exploded. The top of the car
+lifted. It made Andrew think, foolishly enough, of someone tipping a
+hat. It fell slowly, with a crash that was like a faint echo of the
+explosion. Clune ran back, and they could hear his shrill yell of
+delight: &quot;It ain't a safe!&quot; he <!-- Page 181 --><a name="Page_181"></a>exclaimed. &quot;It's a baby mint!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And a baby mint it was! It was a gold shipment. Gold coin runs about
+ninety pounds to ten thousand dollars, and there was close to a hundred
+pounds apiece for each of the bandits. It was the largest haul
+Allister's gang had ever made. Larry la Roche left the pilfering of the
+passengers and went to help carry the loot. They brought it out in
+little loose canvas bags and went on the run with it to the horses.</p>
+
+<p>Someone was speaking. It was the gray-headed man with the glasses and
+the kindly look about the eyes. &quot;Boys, it's the worst little game you've
+ever worked. I promise you we'll keep on your trail until we've run you
+all into the ground. That's really something to remember. I speak for
+Gregg and Sons.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Partner,&quot; said Scottie Macdougal from the cab, where he still kept the
+engineer and fireman covered, &quot;a little hunt is like an after-dinner
+drink to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>To the utter amazement of Andrew the whole crowd&mdash;the crowd which had
+just been carefully and systematically robbed&mdash;burst into laughter. But
+this was the end. There was Allister's whistle; Jeff Rankin ran around
+from the other side of the train; the gang faded instantly into the
+thicket. Andrew, as the rear guard&mdash;his most ticklish moment&mdash;backed
+slowly toward the trees. Once there was a waver in the line, such as
+precedes a rush. He stopped short, and a single twitch of his rifle
+froze the waverers in their tracks.</p>
+
+<p>Once inside the thicket a yell came from the crowd, but Andrew had
+whirled and was running at full speed. He could hear the others crashing
+away. Sally, as he had taught her, broke into a trot as he approached,
+and the moment he struck the saddle she was in full gallop. Guns were
+rattling behind him; random shots cut the air sometimes close to him,
+but not one of the whole crowd dared venture beyond that unknown
+screen of trees.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><!-- Page 182 --><a name="Page_182"></a>CHAPTER 36</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>To Andrew the last danger of the holdup had been assigned as the rear
+guard, and he was the last man to pass Allister. The leader had drawn
+his horse to one side a couple of miles down the valley, and, as each of
+his band passed him, he raised his hand in silent greeting. It was the
+last Andrew saw of him, a ghostly figure sitting his horse with his hand
+above his head. After that his mind was busied by his ride, for, having
+the finest mount in the crowd, to him had been assigned the longest and
+the most roundabout route to reach the Twin Eagles.</p>
+
+<p>Yet he covered so much ground with Sally that, instead of needing the
+full five days to make the rendezvous, he could afford to loaf the last
+stage of the journey. Even at that, he camped in sight of the cabin on
+the fourth night, and on the morning of the fifth he was the first man
+at the shack.</p>
+
+<p>Jeff Rankin came in next. To Jeff, on account of his unwieldy bulk, had
+been assigned the shortest route; yet even so he dismounted, staggering
+and limping from his horse, and collapsed on the pile of boughs which
+Andrew had spent the morning cutting for a bed. As he dropped he tossed
+his bag of coins to the floor. It fell with a melodious jingling that
+was immediately drowned by Jeff's groans; the saddle was torture to him,
+and now he was aching in every joint of his enormous body. &quot;A nice
+haul&mdash;nothin' to kick about,&quot; was Jeff's opinion. &quot;But Caesar's
+ghost&mdash;what a ride! The chief makes this thing too hard on a gent that
+likes to go easy, Andy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Andrew said nothing; silence had been his cue ever since he began acting
+as lieutenant to the chief. It had seemed to <!-- Page 183 --><a name="Page_183"></a>baffle the others; it
+baffled the big man now. Later on Joe Clune and Scottie came in
+together. That was about noon&mdash;they had met each other an hour before.
+But Allister had not come in, although he was usually the first at a
+rendezvous. Neither did Larry la Roche come. The day wore on; the
+silence grew on the group. When Andrew, proportioning the work for
+supper, sent Joe to get wood, Jeff for water, and began himself to work
+with Scottie on the cooking, he was met with ugly looks and hesitation
+before they obeyed. Something, he felt most decidedly, was in the air.
+And when Joe and Rankin came back slowly, walking side by side and
+talking in soft voices, his suspicions were given an edge.</p>
+
+<p>They wanted to eat together; but he forced Scottie to take post on the
+high hill to their right to keep lookout, and for this he received
+another scowl. Then, when supper was half over, Larry la Roche came in
+to camp. News came with him, an atmosphere of tidings around his gloomy
+figure, but he cast himself down by the fire and ate and drank in
+silence, until his hunger was gone. Then he tossed his tin dishes away
+and they fell clattering on the rocks.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pick 'em up,&quot; said Andrew quietly. &quot;We'll have no litter around this
+camp.&quot; Larry la Roche stared at him in hushed malevolence. &quot;Stand up and
+get 'em,&quot; repeated Andrew. As he saw the big hands of Larry twitching he
+smiled across the fire at the tall, bony figure. &quot;I'll give you two
+seconds to get 'em,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>One deadly second pulsed away, then Larry crumpled. He caught up his tin
+cup and the plate. &quot;We'll talk later about you,&quot; he said ominously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We'll talk about something else first,&quot; said Andrew. &quot;You've seen
+Allister?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At first it seemed that La Roche would not speak; then his wide, thin
+lips writhed back from his teeth. &quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where is he?&quot; &quot;<!-- Page 184 --><a name="Page_184"></a>Gone to the happy hunting grounds.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The silence came and the pulse in it. One by one, by a natural instinct,
+the men looked about them sharply into the night and made sure of their
+weapons. It was the only tribute to the memory of Allister from his men,
+but tears and praise could not have been more eloquent. He had made
+these men fearless of the whole world. Now were they ready to jump at
+the passage of a shadow. They looked at each other with strange eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who? How many?&quot; asked Jeff Rankin.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;One man done it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hal Dozier?&quot; said Andrew.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Him,&quot; said Larry la Roche. He went on, looking gloomily down at the
+fire. &quot;He got me first. The chief must of seen him get me by surprise,
+while I was down off my hoss, lying flat and drinking out of a creek!&quot;
+He closed his great, bony fist in unspeakable agony at the thought.
+&quot;Dozier come behind and took me. Frisked me. Took my guns, not the coin.
+We went down through the hills. Then the chief slid out of a shadow and
+come at us like a tiger. I sloped.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You left Allister to fight alone?&quot; said Scottie Macdougal quietly, for
+he had come from his lookout to listen.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I had no gun,&quot; said Larry, without raising his eyes from the fire. &quot;I
+sloped. I looked back and seen Allister sitting on his hoss, dead still.
+Hal Dozier was sittin' on his hoss, dead still. Five seconds, maybe.
+Then they went for their guns together. They was two bangs like one. But
+Allister slid out of his saddle and Dozier stayed in his. I come
+on here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The quiet covered them. Joe Clune, with a shudder and another glance
+over his shoulder, cast a branch on the fire, and the flames leaped.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dozier knows you're with us,&quot; added Larry la Roche, and he cast a long
+glance of hatred at Andrew. &quot;He knows <!-- Page 185 --><a name="Page_185"></a>you're with us, and he knows our
+luck left us when you come.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Andrew looked about the circle; not an eye met his.</p>
+
+<p>The talk of Larry la Roche during the days of the ride was showing its
+effect now. The gage had been thrown down to Andrew, and he dared not
+pick it up.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Boys,&quot; he said, &quot;I'll say this: Are we going to bust up and each man go
+his way?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was no answer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If we do, we can split the profits over again. I'll take no money out
+of a thing that cost Allister's death. There's my sack on the floor of
+the shack. Divvy it up among you. You fitted me out when I was broke.
+That'll pay you back. Do we split up?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They's no reason why we should&mdash;and be run down like rabbits,&quot; said Joe
+Clune, with another of those terrible glances over his shoulder into
+the night.</p>
+
+<p>The others assented with so many growls.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All right,&quot; said Andrew, &quot;we stick together. And, if we stick together,
+I run this camp.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You?&quot; asked Larry la Roche. &quot;Who picked you? Who 'lected you, son? Why,
+you unlucky&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ease up,&quot; said Andrew softly.</p>
+
+<p>The eyes of La Roche flicked across the circle and picked up the glances
+of the others, but they were not yet ready to tackle Andrew Lanning.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The last thing Allister did,&quot; said Andrew, &quot;was to make me his
+lieutenant. It's the last thing he did, and I'm going to push it
+through. Not because I like the job.&quot; He raised his head, but not his
+voice. &quot;They may run down the rest of you. They won't run down me. They
+can't. They've tried, and they can't. And I might be able to keep the
+rest of you clear. I'm going to try. But I won't follow the lead of any
+of you. If there'd been one that could keep the rest of you together,
+d'you think Allister wouldn't have seen it? Don't <!-- Page 186 --><a name="Page_186"></a>you think he would of
+made that one leader? Why, look at you! Jeff, you'd follow Clune. But
+would Larry or Scottie follow Clune? Look at 'em and see!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>All eyes went to Clune, and then the glances of Scottie and La Roche
+dropped.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nobody here would follow La Roche. He's the best man we've got for some
+of the hardest work, but you're too flighty with your temper, Larry, and
+you know it. We respect you just as much, but not to plan things for the
+rest of us. Is that straight?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And you, Scottie,&quot; said Andrew, &quot;you're the only one I'd follow. I say
+that freely. But who else would follow you? You're the best of us all at
+headwork and planning, but you don't swing your gun as fast, and you
+don't shoot as straight as Jeff or Larry or Joe. Is that straight?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's leading the gang got to do with fighting?&quot; asked Scottie
+harshly. &quot;And who's got the right to the head of things but me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ask Allister what fighting had to do with the running of things,&quot; said
+Andrew calmly.</p>
+
+<p>The moon was sliding up out of the east; it changed the faces of the men
+and made them oddly animallike; they stared, fascinated, at Andrew.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There's two reasons why I'm going to run this job, if we stick
+together. Allister named them once. I can take advice from any one of
+you; I know what each of you can do; I can plan a job for you; I can
+lead you clear of the law&mdash;and there's not one of you that can bully me
+or make me give an inch&mdash;no, nor all of you together&mdash;La Roche!
+Macdougal! Clune! Rankin!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was like a roll call, and at each name a head was jerked up in
+answer, and two glittering eyes flashed at Andrew&mdash;flashed, sparkled,
+and then became dull. The moonlight had made his pale skin a deadly
+white, and it was a demoniac face they saw. <!-- Page 187 --><a name="Page_187"></a>The silence was his answer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Jeff,&quot; he commanded, &quot;take the hill. You'll stand the watch tonight.
+And look sharp. If Dozier got Allister he's apt to come at us. Step
+on it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Jeff Rankin rose without a word and lumbered to the top of the hill.
+Larry la Roche suddenly filled his cup with boiling hot coffee,
+regardless of the heat, regardless of the dirt in the cup. His hand
+shook when he raised it to his lips.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 37</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>There was no further attempt at challenging his authority. When he
+ordered Clune and La Roche to bring in boughs for bedding&mdash;since they
+were to stop in the shack overnight&mdash;they went silently. But it was such
+a silence as comes when the wind falls at the end of a day and in a
+silent sky the clouds pile heavily, higher and higher. Andrew took the
+opportunity to speak to Scottie Macdougal. He told Scottie simply that
+he needed him, and with him at his back he could handle the others, and
+more, too. He was surprised to see a twinkle in the eye of the
+Scotchman.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, Andy,&quot; said the canny fellow, &quot;didn't you see me pass you the
+wink? I was with you all the time!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Andrew thanked him and went into the cabin to arrange for lights. He had
+no intention of shirking a share in the actual work of the camp; even
+though Allister had set that example for his following. He took some
+lengths of pitchy pine sticks and arranged them for torches. One of them
+alone would send a flare of yellow light through the cabin; two made a
+comfortable illumination. But he worked cheerlessly. The excitement of
+the robbery and the chase was <!-- Page 188 --><a name="Page_188"></a>over, and then the conflict with the men
+was passing. He began to see things truly by the drab light of
+retrospection. The bullets of Allister and Clune might have gone home&mdash;
+they were intended to kill, not to wound. And if there had been two
+deaths he, Andrew Lanning, would have been equally guilty with the men
+who handled the guns, for he had been one of the forces which made that
+shooting possible.</p>
+
+<p>It was an ugly way to look at it&mdash;very ugly. It kept a frown on Andrew's
+face, while he arranged the torches in the main room of the shack and
+then put one for future reference in the little shed which leaned
+against the rear of the main structure. He arranged his own bed in this
+second room, where the saddles and other accouterments were piled. It
+was easily explained, since there was hardly room for five men in the
+first room. But he had another purpose. He wanted to separate himself
+from the others, just as Allister always did. Even in a crowded room
+Allister would seem aloof, and Andrew determined to make the famous
+leader his guide.</p>
+
+<p>Above all he was troubled by what Scottie had said. He would have felt
+easy at heart if the Scotchman had met him with an argument or with a
+frown or honest opposition or with a hearty handshake, to say that all
+was well between them. But this cunning lie&mdash;this cunning protestation
+that he had been with the new leader from the first, put Andrew on his
+guard. For he knew perfectly well that Scottie had not been on his side
+during the crisis with La Roche. Macdougal sat before the door, his
+metal flask of whisky beside him. It was a fault of Allister, this
+permitting of whisky at all times and in all places, after a job was
+finished. And while it made the other men savage beasts, it turned
+Scottie Macdougal into a wily, smiling snake. He had bit the heel of
+more than one man in his drinking bouts.</p>
+
+<p>Presently La Roche and Clune came in. They had been talking together
+again. Andrew could tell by the manner in <!-- Page 189 --><a name="Page_189"></a>which they separated, as soon
+as they entered the room, and by their voices, which they made loud and
+cheerful; and, also, by the fact that they avoided looking at each
+other. They were striving patently to prove that there was nothing
+between them; and if Andrew had been on guard, now he became
+tinglingly so.</p>
+
+<p>They arranged their bunks; Larry la Roche took from his vest a pipe with
+a small bowl and a long stem and sat down cross-legged to smoke. Andrew
+suggested that Larry produce the contents of his saddlebag and share the
+spoils of war.</p>
+
+<p>He brought it out willingly enough and spilled it out on the improvised
+table, a glittering mass of gold trinkets, watches, jewels. He picked
+out of the mass a chain of diamonds and spread it out on his snaky
+fingers so that the light could play on it. Andrew knew nothing about
+gems, but he knew that the chain must be worth a great deal of money.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This,&quot; said Larry, &quot;is my share. You gents can have the rest and split
+it up.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A nice set of sparklers,&quot; nodded Clune, &quot;but there's plenty left to
+satisfy me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What you think,&quot; declared Scottie, &quot;ain't of any importance, Joe. It's
+what the chief thinks that counts. Is it square, Lanning?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Andrew flushed at the appeal and the ugly looks which La Roche and Clune
+cast toward him. He could have stifled Scottie for that appeal, and yet
+Scottie was smiling in the greatest apparent good nature and belief in
+their leader. His face was flushed, but his lips were bloodless. Alcohol
+always affected him in that manner.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't know the value of the stones,&quot; said Andrew.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't you?&quot; murmured Scottie. &quot;I forgot. Thought maybe you would. That
+was something that Allister did know.&quot; <!-- Page 190 --><a name="Page_190"></a>The new leader saw a flash of
+glances toward Scottie, but the latter continued to eye the captain with
+a steady and innocent look.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Scottie,&quot; decided Andrew instantly, &quot;is my chief enemy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>If he could detach one man to his side all would be well. Two against
+three would be a simple thing, as long as he was one of the two. But
+four against one&mdash;and such a four as these&mdash;was hopeless odds. There
+seemed little chance of getting Joe Clune. There remained only Jeff
+Rankin as his possibly ally, and already he had stepped on Jeff's toes
+sorely, by making the tired giant stand guard. He thought of all these
+things, of course, in a flash. And then in answer to his thoughts Jeff
+Rankin appeared. His heavy footfall crashed inside the door. He stopped,
+panting, and, in spite of his news, paused to blink at the flash
+of jewels.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's comin',&quot; said Jeff. &quot;Boys, get your guns and scatter out of the
+cabin. Duck that light! Hal Dozier is comin' up the valley.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was not a single exclamation, but the lights went out as if by
+magic; there were a couple of light, hissing sounds, such as iron makes
+when it is whipped swiftly across leather.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How'd you know him by this light?&quot; asked Larry la Roche, as they went
+out of the door. Outside they found everything brilliant with the white
+moonshine of the mountains.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nobody but Hal Dozier rides twistin' that way in the saddle. I'd tell
+him in a thousand. It's old wounds that makes him ride like that. We got
+ten minutes. He's takin' the long way up the ca&ntilde;on. And they ain't
+anybody with him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If he's come alone,&quot; said Andrew, &quot;he's come for me and not for the
+rest of you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>No one spoke. Then Larry la Roche: &quot;He wants to make <!-- Page 191 --><a name="Page_191"></a>it man to man.
+That's clear. That's why he pulled up his hoss and waited for Allister
+to make the first move for his gun. It's a clean challenge to some
+one of us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Andrew saw his chance and used it mercilessly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Which one of you is willing to take the challenge?&quot; he asked. &quot;Which
+one of you is willing to ride down the ca&ntilde;on and meet him alone? La
+Roche, I've heard you curse Dozier.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Larry la Roche answered: &quot;What's this fool talk about takin' a
+challenge? I say, string out behind the hills and pot him with rifles.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;One man, and we're five,&quot; said Jeff Rankin. &quot;It ain't sportin', Larry.
+I hate to hear you say that. We'd be despised all over the mountains if
+we done it. He's makin' his play with a lone hand, and we've got to meet
+him the same way. Eh, chief?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was sweet to Andrew to hear that appeal. And he saw them turn one by
+one toward him in the moonlight and wait. It was his first great
+tribute. He looked over those four wolfish figures and felt his
+heart swelling.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wish me luck, boys,&quot; he said, and without another word he turned and
+went down the hillside.</p>
+
+<p>The others watched him with amazement. He felt it rather than saw it,
+and it kept a tingle in his blood. He felt, also, that they were
+spreading out to either side to get a clear view of the fight that was
+to follow, and it occurred to him that, even if Hal Dozier killed him,
+there would not be one chance in a thousand of Hal's getting away. Four
+deadly rifles would be covering him.</p>
+
+<p>It must be that a sort of madness had come on Dozier, advancing in this
+manner, unsupported by a posse. Or, perhaps, he had no idea that the
+outlaws could be so close. He expected a daylight encounter high up the
+mountains.</p>
+
+<p>But Andrew went swiftly down the ravine.</p>
+
+<p>Broken cliffs, granite boulders jumped up on either side <!-- Page 192 --><a name="Page_192"></a>of him, and
+the rocks were pale and glimmering under the moon. This one valley
+seemed to receive the light; the loftier mountains rolling away on each
+side were black as jet, with sharp, ragged outlines against the sky. It
+was a cold light, and the chill of it went through Andrew. He was
+afraid, afraid as he had been when Buck Heath faced him in Martindale,
+or when Bill Dozier ran him down, or when the famous Sandy cornered him.
+His fingers felt brittle, and his breath came and went in short gasps,
+drawn into the upper part of his lungs only.</p>
+
+<p>Behind him, like an electric force pushing him on, the outlaws watched
+his steps. They, also, were shuddering with fear, and he knew it.</p>
+
+<p>Dozier was coming, fresh from another kill.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Only one man I'd think twice about meeting,&quot; Allister had said in the
+old days, and he had been right. Yet there were thousands who had sworn
+that Allister was invincible&mdash;that he would never fall before a
+single man.</p>
+
+<p>He thought, too, of the lean face and the peculiar, set eye of Dozier.
+The man had no fear, he had no nerves; he was a machine, and death was
+his business.</p>
+
+<p>And was he, Andrew Lanning, unknown until the past few months, now going
+down to face destruction, as full of fear as a girl trembling at the
+dark? What was it that drew them together, so unfairly matched?</p>
+
+<p>He could still see only the white haze of the moonshine before him, but
+now there was the clicking of hoofs on the rock. Dozier was coming.
+Andrew walked squarely out into the middle of the ravine and waited. He
+had set his teeth. The nerves on the bottom of his feet were twitching.
+Something freezing cold was beginning at the tips of his fingers. How
+long would it take Dozier to come?</p>
+
+<p>An interminable time. The hoofbeats actually seemed to fade out and draw
+away at one time. Then they began again very near him, and now they
+stopped. Had Dozier seen him <!-- Page 193 --><a name="Page_193"></a>around the elbow curve? That heartbreaking
+instant passed, and the clicking began again. Then the rider came slowly
+in view. First there was the nodding head of the cow pony, then the foot
+in the stirrup, then Hal Dozier riding a little twisted in the saddle&mdash;a
+famous characteristic of his.</p>
+
+<p>He came on closer and closer. He began to seem huge on the horse. Was he
+blind not to see the figure that waited for him?</p>
+
+<p>A voice that was not his, that he did not recognize, leaped out from
+between his teeth and tore his throat: &quot;Dozier!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The cow pony halted with a start; the rider jerked straight in his
+saddle; the echo of the call barked back from some angling cliff face
+down the ravine. All that before Dozier made his move. He had dropped
+the reins, and Andrew, with a mad intention of proving that he himself
+did not make the first move toward his weapon, had folded his arms.</p>
+
+<p>He did not move through the freezing instant that followed. Not until
+there was a convulsive jerk of Dozier's elbow did he stir his folded
+arms. Then his right arm loosened, and the hand flashed down to
+his holster.</p>
+
+<p>Was Dozier moving with clogged slowness, or was it that he had ceased to
+be a body, that he was all brain and hair-trigger nerves making every
+thousandth part of a second seem a unit of time? It seemed to Andrew
+that the marshal's hand dragged through its work; to those who watched
+from the sides of the ravine, there was a flash of fire from his gun
+before they saw even the flash of the steel out of the holster. The gun
+spat in the hand of Dozier, and something jerked at the shirt of Andrew
+beside his neck. He himself had fired only once, and he knew that the
+shot had been too high and to the right of his central target; yet he
+did not fire again. Something strange was happening to Hal Dozier. His
+head had nodded forward as though in mockery <!-- Page 194 --><a name="Page_194"></a>of the bullet; his
+extended right hand fell slowly, slowly; his whole body began to sway
+and lean toward the right. Not until that moment did Andrew know that he
+had shot the marshal through the body.</p>
+
+<p>He raced to the side of the cattle pony, and, as the horse veered away,
+Hal Dozier dropped limply into his arms. He lay with his limbs sprawling
+at odd angles beside him. His muscles seemed paralyzed, but his eyes
+were bright and wide, and his face perfectly composed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There's luck for you,&quot; said Hal Dozier calmly. &quot;I pulled it two inches
+to the right, or I would have broken your neck with the slug&mdash;anyway, I
+spoiled your shirt.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The cold was gone from Andrew, and he felt his heart thundering and
+shaking his body. He was repeating like a frightened child, &quot;For God's
+sake, Hal, don't die&mdash;don't die.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The paralyzed body did not move, but the calm voice answered him: &quot;You
+fool! Finish me before your gang comes and does it for you!&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 38</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>There was a rush of footsteps behind and around him, a jangle of voices,
+and there were the four huddled over Hal Dozier. Andrew had risen and
+stepped back, silently thanking God that it was not a death. He heard
+the voices of the four like voices in a dream.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A clean one.&quot; &quot;A nice bit of work.&quot; &quot;Dozier, are you thinkin' of
+Allister, curse you?&quot; &quot;D'you remember Hugh Wiley now?&quot; &quot;D'you maybe
+recollect my pal, Bud Swain? Think about 'em, Dozier, while you're
+dyin'!&quot; <!-- Page 195 --><a name="Page_195"></a>The calm eyes traveled without hurry from face to face. And
+curiosity came to Andrew, a cool, deadly curiosity. He stepped among
+the gang.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's not fatally hurt,&quot; he said. &quot;What d'you intend to do with him?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're all wrong, chief,&quot; said Larry la Roche, and he grinned at
+Andrew. His submission now was perfect and complete. There was even a
+sort of worship in the bright eyes that looked at the new leader. &quot;I
+hate to say it, but right as you mos' gener'ly are, you're wrong this
+time. He's done. He don't need no more lookin' to. Leave him be for an
+hour and he'll be finished. Also, that'll give him a chance to think. He
+needs a chance. Old Curley had a chance to think&mdash;took him four hours to
+kick out after Dozier plugged him. I heard what he had to say, and it
+wasn't pretty. I think maybe it'd be sort of interestin' to hear what
+Dozier has to say. Long about the time he gets thirsty. Eh, boys?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a snarl from the other three as they looked down at the
+wounded man, who did not speak a word. And Andrew knew that he was
+indeed alone with that crew, for the man whom he had just shot down was
+nearer to him than the members of Allister's gang.</p>
+
+<p>He spoke suddenly: &quot;Jeff, take his head; Clune, take his feet. Carry him
+up to the cabin.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They only stared at him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look here, captain,&quot; said Scottie in a soft voice, just a trifle
+thickened by whiskey, &quot;are you thinking of taking him up there and tying
+him up so that he'll live through this?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And again the other three snarled softly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You murdering hounds!&quot; said Andrew.</p>
+
+<p>That was all. They looked at each other; they looked at the new leader.
+And the sight of his white face and his nervous right hand was too much
+for them. They took up the marshal and carried him to the cabin, his
+<!-- Page 196 --><a name="Page_196"></a>pony following like a dog behind. They brought him, without asking for
+directions, straight into the little rear room&mdash;Andrew's room. It was a
+sufficiently intelligible way of saying that this was his work and none
+of theirs. And not a hand lifted to aid him while he went to work with
+the bandaging. He knew little about such work, but the marshal himself,
+in a rather faint, but perfectly steady voice, gave directions. And in
+the painful cleaning of the wound he did not murmur once. Neither did he
+express the slightest gratitude. He kept following Andrew about the room
+with coldly curious eyes.</p>
+
+<p>In the next room the voices of the four were a steady, rumbling murmur.
+Now and then the glance of the marshal wandered to the door. When the
+bandaging was completed, he asked, &quot;Do you know you've started a job you
+can't finish?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah?&quot; murmured Andrew.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Those four,&quot; said the marshal, &quot;won't let you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Andrew smiled.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are you easier now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't bother about me. I'll tell you what&mdash;I wish you'd get me a drink
+of water.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll send one of the boys.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, get it yourself. I want to say something to them while you're
+gone.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Andrew had risen up from his knees. He now studied the face of the
+marshal steadily.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You want 'em to come in here and drill you, eh?&quot; he said. &quot;Why?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The other nodded.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've given up hope once; I've gone through the hardest part of dying;
+let them finish the job now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Tomorrow you'll feel differently.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will I?&quot; asked the marshal. All at once his eyes went yellow with hate.
+&quot;I go back to the desert&mdash;I go to Martindale&mdash;people <!-- Page 197 --><a name="Page_197"></a>I pass on the
+street whisper as I go by. They'll tell over and over how I went down.
+And a kid did it&mdash;a raw kid!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He closed his eyes in silent agony. Then he looked up more keenly than
+before. &quot;How'll they know that it was luck&mdash;that my gun stuck in the
+holster&mdash;and that you jumped me on the draw?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You lie,&quot; said Andrew calmly. &quot;Your gun came out clean as a whistle,
+and I waited for you, Dozier. You know I did.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The pain in the marshal's face became a ghastly thing to see. At last he
+could speak.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A sneak always lies well,&quot; he replied, as he sneered at Lanning.</p>
+
+<p>He went on, while Andrew sat shivering with passion. &quot;And any fool can
+get in a lucky shot now and then. But, when I'm out of this, I'll hunt
+you down again and I'll plant you full of lead, my son! You can lay
+to that!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The hard breathing of Andrew gradually subsided.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It won't work, Dozier,&quot; he said quietly. &quot;You can't make me mad enough
+to shoot a man who's down. You can't make me murder you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The marshal closed his eyes again, while his breathing was beginning to
+grow fainter, and there was an unpleasant rattle in the hollow of his
+throat. Andrew went into the next room.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Scottie,&quot; he said, &quot;will you let me have your flask?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Scottie smiled at him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not for what you'd use it for, Lanning,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>Andrew picked up a cup and shoved it across the table.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pour a little whisky in that, please,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>Scottie looked up and studied him. Then he tipped his flask and poured a
+thin stream into the cup until it was half full. Andrew went back toward
+the door, the cup in his left hand. He backed up, keeping his face
+steadily toward the <!-- Page 198 --><a name="Page_198"></a>four, and kicked open the door behind him.</p>
+
+<p>War, he knew, had been declared. Then he raised the marshal's head and
+gave him a sip of the fiery stuff. It cleared the face of the
+wounded man.</p>
+
+<p>Then Andrew rolled down his blankets before the door, braced a small
+stick against it, so that the sound would be sure to waken him if anyone
+tried to enter, and laid down for the night. He was almost asleep when
+the marshal said: &quot;Are you really going to stick it out, Andy?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In spite of what I've said?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose you meant it all? You'd hunt me down and kill me like a dog
+after you get back on your feet?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Like a dog.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you think it over and see things clearly,&quot; replied Andrew, &quot;you'll
+see that what I've done I've done for my own sake, and not for yours.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How do you make that out&mdash;with four men in the next room ready to stick
+a knife in your back&mdash;if I know anything about 'em?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll tell you: I owe nothing to you, but a man owes a lot to himself,
+and I'm going to pay myself in full.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 39</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but, though he came to the verge
+of oblivion, the voices from the other room finally waked him. They had
+been changing subtly during the past hours and now they rose, and there
+was a ring to them that troubled Andrew.</p>
+
+<p>He could make out their talk part of the time; and then again they
+lowered their voices to rumbling growls. At such <!-- Page 199 --><a name="Page_199"></a>times he knew that
+they were speaking of him, and the hum of the undertone was more ominous
+than open threats. When they talked aloud there was a confused clamor;
+when they were more hushed there was always the oily murmur of Scottie's
+voice, taking the lead and directing the current of the talk.</p>
+
+<p>The liquor was going the rounds fast, now. Before they left for the
+Murchison Pass they had laid in a comfortable supply, but apparently
+Allister had cached a quantity of the stuff at the Twin Eagles shack. Of
+one thing Andrew was certain, that four such practiced whisky drinkers
+would never let their party degenerate into a drunken rout; and another
+thing was even more sure&mdash;that Scottie Macdougal would keep his head
+better than the best of the others. But what the alcohol would do would
+be to cut the leash of constraint and dig up every strong passion among
+them. For instance, Jeff Rankin was by far the most equable of the lot,
+but, given a little whisky, Jeff became a conscienceless devil.</p>
+
+<p>He knew his own weakness, and Andrew, crawling to the door and putting
+his ear to the crack under it, found that the sounds of the voices
+became instantly clearer; the others were plying Jeff with the liquor,
+and Jeff, knowing that he had had enough, was persistently refusing, but
+with less and less energy.</p>
+
+<p>There must be a very definite reason for this urging of Rankin toward
+the whisky, and Andrew was not hard pressed to find out that reason. The
+big, rather good-natured giant was leaning toward the side of the new
+leader, just as steadily as the others were leaning away from him.
+Whisky alone would stop his scruples. Larry la Roche, his voice a
+guarded, hissing whisper, was speaking to Jeff as Andrew began listening
+from his new position.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What I ask you,&quot; said La Roche, &quot;is this: Have we had any luck since
+the kid joined us?&quot; &quot;<!-- Page 200 --><a name="Page_200"></a>We've got a pile of the coin,&quot; said Jeff
+obstinately.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;D'you stack a little coin against the loss of Allister?&quot; asked Larry la
+Roche.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Easy,&quot; cautioned Scottie. &quot;Not so loud, Larry.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's asleep,&quot; said Larry la Roche. &quot;I heard him lie down after he'd put
+something agin' the door. No fear of him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't be so sure. He might make a noise lying down and make not a sound
+getting up. And, even when he's asleep, he's got one eye open like
+a wolf.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; repeated Larry insistently, and now his voice was so faint that
+Andrew had to guess at half the syllables, &quot;answer my question, Jeff:
+Have we had good luck or bad luck, takin' it all in all, since he
+joined us?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How do I know it's his fault?&quot; asked Jeff. &quot;We all knew it would be a
+close pinch if Allister ever jumped Hal Dozier. We thought Allister was
+a little bit faster than Dozier. Everybody else said that Dozier was the
+best man that ever pulled a gun out of leather. It wasn't luck that beat
+Allister&mdash;it was a better man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a thud as his fist hit the rickety, squeaking table in the
+center of the room.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I say, let's play fair and square. How do I know that the kid won't
+make a good leader?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Scottie broke in smoothly: &quot;Makes me grin when you say that, Jeff. Tell
+you what the trouble is with you, old man: you're too modest. A fellow
+that's done what you've done, following a kid that ain't twenty-five!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a bearlike grunt from Jeff. He was not altogether displeased
+by this gracious tribute. But he answered: &quot;You're too slippery with
+your tongue, Scottie. I never know when you mean what you say!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It must have been a bitter pill for Scottie to swallow, but he was not
+particularly formidable with his weapons, compared with straight-eyed
+Jeff Rankin, and he answered: &quot;Maybe there's some I jolly along a bit,
+but, when I talk to <!-- Page 201 --><a name="Page_201"></a>old Jeff Rankin, I talk straight. Look at me now,
+Jeff. Do I look as if I was joking with you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I ain't any hand at readin' minds,&quot; grumbled Jeff.</p>
+
+<p>He added suddenly: &quot;I say it was the finest thing I ever see, the way
+young Lanning stood out there in the valley. Did you watch? Did you see
+him let Dozier get the jump on his gun? Pretty, pretty, pretty! And then
+his own gat was out like a flash&mdash;one wink, and there was Hal Dozier
+drilled clean! I tell you, boys, you got this young Lanning wrong. I
+sort of cotton to the kid. I always did. I liked him the first time I
+ever laid eyes on him. So did you all, except Larry, yonder. And it was
+Larry that turned you agin' him after he come and joined us. Who asked
+him to join us? We did!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who asked him to be captain?&quot; said Scottie.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed to stagger Jeff Rankin.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Allister used him for a sort of second man; seemed like he meant him to
+lead us in case anything happened to him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;While Allister was living,&quot; said Scottie, &quot;you know I would of followed
+him anywhere. Wasn't I his advance agent? Didn't I do his planning with
+him? But now Allister's dead&mdash;worse luck&mdash;but dead he is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He paused here cunningly, and, no doubt, during that pause each of the
+outlaws conjured up a picture of the scar-faced man with the bright,
+steady eyes, who had led them so long and quelled them so often and held
+them together through thick and thin.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Allister's dead,&quot; repeated Scottie, &quot;and what he did while he was alive
+don't hold us now. We chose him for captain out of our own free will.
+Now that he's dead we have the right to elect another captain. What's
+Lanning done that he has a right to fill Allister's place with us? What
+job did he have at the holdup? When we stuck up the train didn't he have
+the easiest job? Did he give one good piece <!-- Page 202 --><a name="Page_202"></a>of advice while we were
+plannin' the job? Did he show any ability to lead us, then?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The answer came unhesitatingly from Rankin: &quot;It wasn't his place to lead
+while Allister was with us. And I'll tell you what he done after
+Allister died. When I seen Dozier comin', who was it that stepped out to
+meet him? Was it you, Scottie? No, it wasn't. It wasn't you, La Roche,
+neither, nor you, Clune, and it wasn't me. Made me sick inside, the
+thought of facin' Dozier. Why? Because I knew he'd never been beat.
+Because I knew he was a better man than Allister, and that Allister had
+been a better man than me. And it ain't no braggin' to say I'm a handier
+gent with my guns than any of you. Well, I was sick, and you all were
+sick. I seen your faces. But who steps out and takes the lead? It was
+the kid you grin at, Scottie; it was Andy Lanning, and I say it was a
+fine thing to do!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was undoubtedly a facer; but Scottie came back in his usual calm
+manner.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know it was Lanning, and it was a fine thing. I don't deny, either,
+that he's a fine gent in lots of ways&mdash;and in his place&mdash;but is his
+place at the head of the gang? Are we going to be bullied into having
+him there?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then let him follow, and somebody else lead.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You make me laugh, Jeff. He's not the sort that will follow anybody.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Plainly Scottie was working on Jeff from a distance. He would bring him
+slowly around to the place where he would agree to the attack on Andrew
+for the sake of getting at the wounded marshal.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Have another drink, Jeff, and then let's get back to the main point,
+and that has nothin' to do with Andy. It is: Is Hal Dozier going to
+live or die?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The time had come, Andrew saw, to make his final play. A little more of
+this talk and the big, good-hearted, strong-handed <!-- Page 203 --><a name="Page_203"></a>Rankin would be
+completely on the side of the others. And that meant the impossible odds
+of four to one. Andrew knew it. He would attack any two of them without
+fear. But three became a desperate, a grim battle; and four to one made
+the thing suicide.</p>
+
+<p>He slipped silently to his feet from beside the door and picked up the
+canvas bag which represented his share of the robbery. Then he knocked
+at the door.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Boys,&quot; he called, &quot;there's been some hard thoughts between the lot of
+you and me. It looks like we're on opposite sides of a fence. I want to
+come in and talk to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Instantly Scottie answered: &quot;Why, come on in, captain; not such hard
+words as you think&mdash;not on my side, anyways!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was a cunning enough lure, no doubt, and Andrew had his hand on the
+latch of the door before a second thought reached him. If he exposed
+himself, would not the three of them pull their guns? They would be able
+to account for it to Jeff Rankin later on.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll come in,&quot; said Andrew, &quot;when I hear you give me surety that I'll
+be safe. I don't trust you, Scottie.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thanks for that. What surety do you want?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I want the word of Jeff Rankin that he'll see me through till I've made
+my talk to you and my proposition.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was an excellent counterthrust, but Larry la Roche saw through the
+attempt to win Jeff immediately.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You skunk!&quot; he said. &quot;If you don't trust us we don't trust you. Stay
+where you be. We don't want to hear your talk!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Jeff, what do you say?&quot; continued Andrew calmly.</p>
+
+<p>There was a clamor of three voices and then the louder voice of Jeff,
+like a lion shaking itself clear of wolves: &quot;Andy, come in, and I'll see
+you get a square deal&mdash;if you'll trust me!&quot; <!-- Page 204 --><a name="Page_204"></a>Instantly Andrew threw open
+the door and stepped in, his revolver in one hand, the heavy sack over
+his other arm, a dragging weight and also a protection.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll trust you, Jeff,&quot; he said. &quot;Trust you? Why, man, with you at my
+back I'd laugh at twenty fellows like these. They simply don't count.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was another well-placed shot, and he saw Rankin flush heavily with
+pleasure. Scottie tilted his box back against the wall and delivered his
+counterstroke: &quot;He said the same thing to me earlier on in the evening,&quot;
+he remarked casually. &quot;But I told him where to go. I told him that I was
+with the bunch first and last and all the time. That's why he hates me!&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 40</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>While he searched desperately for an answer, Andrew found none. Then he
+saw the stupid, big eyes of Jeff wander from his face to the face of
+Scottie, and he knew that his previous advantage had been completely
+neutralized.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Boys,&quot; he said, and he surveyed the restless, savage figures of Clune
+and La Roche, &quot;I've come for a little plain talk. There's no more
+question about me leadin' the gang. None at all. I wouldn't lead you, La
+Roche, nor you, Clune, nor you, Scottie. There's only one man here
+that's clean&mdash;and he's Jeff Rankin.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He waited for that point to sink home; as Scottie opened his lips to
+strike back, he went ahead deliberately. By retaining his own calm he
+saw that he kept a great advantage. Rankin began fumbling at his cup;
+Scottie instantly filled it half full with whisky. &quot;<!-- Page 205 --><a name="Page_205"></a>Don't drink that,&quot;
+said Andrew sharply. &quot;Don't drink it, Jeff. Scottie's doin' that on
+purpose to get you sap headed!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do what he says,&quot; said Scottie calmly. &quot;Throw the dirty stuff away,
+Jeff. Do what your daddy tells you. You ain't old enough to know your
+own mind, are you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Big Jeff flushed, cast a glance of defiance that included both Andrew
+and Scottie, and tossed off the whisky. It was a blow over the heart for
+Andrew; he had to finish his talking now, before Jeff Rankin was turned
+mad by the whisky. And if he worked it well, Jeff would be on his side.
+The madness would fight for Andrew.</p>
+
+<p>He said: &quot;There's no more question about me being a leader for you.
+Personally, I'd like to have Jeff&mdash;not to follow me, but to be pals
+with me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jeff cleared his throat and looked about with foolish importance. Not an
+eye wavered to meet his glance; every look was fixed with a hungry hate
+upon Andrew.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There's only one thing up between the lot of us: Do I keep Hal Dozier,
+or do you get him&mdash;to murder him? Do you fellows ride on your way free
+and easy, to do what you please, or do you tackle me in that room, eat
+my lead, and then, if you finish me, get a chance to kill a man that's
+nearly dead now? How does it look to you, boys? Think it over.
+Think sharp!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He knew while he spoke that there was one exquisitely simple way to end
+both his life and the life of Dozier&mdash;let them touch a match to the
+building and shoot him while he ran from the flames. But he could only
+pray that they would not see it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And besides, I'll do more. You think you have a claim on Dozier. I'll
+buy him from you. Here's half his weight in gold. Will you take the
+money and clear out? Or are you going to make the play at me? If you do,
+you'll buy whatever you get at a high price!&quot; &quot;<!-- Page 206 --><a name="Page_206"></a>You forget&mdash;&quot; put in
+Scottie, but Andrew interrupted.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't want to hear from you, Scottie. I know you're a snake. I want
+to hear from Jeff Rankin. Speak up, Jeff. Everything's in your hands,
+and I trust you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The giant rose from his chair. His face was white with the effect of the
+whisky, and one spot of color burned in each cheek. He looked
+gloweringly upon his companions.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Andy,&quot; he said, &quot;I&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wait a minute,&quot; said Scottie swiftly, seeing that the scales were
+balancing toward a defeat.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let him talk. You don't have to tell him what to say,&quot; said Andrew.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've got a right to put our side up to him&mdash;for the sake of the things
+we've been through together. Jeff, have I?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jeff Rankin cleared his throat importantly. Scottie faced him; the
+others kept their unchanging eyes rivetted upon Andrew, ready for the
+gun play at the first flicker of an eyelid. The first sign of unwariness
+would begin and end the battle.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't forget this,&quot; went on Scottie, having Jeff's attention. &quot;Andy is
+workin' to keep Dozier alive. Why? Dozier's the law, isn't he? Then Andy
+wants to make up with the law. He wants to sneak out. He wants to turn
+state's evidence!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The deadly phrase shocked Jeff Rankin a pace back toward soberness.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I never thought,&quot; he began.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're too straight to think of it. Take another look at Lanning. Is he
+one of us? Has he ever been one of us? No! Look again! Dozier has hunted
+Lanning all over the mountain desert. Now he wants to save Dozier. Wants
+to risk his life for him. Wants to buy him from us! Why? Because he's
+turned crooked. He's turned soft. He wants to get under the wing of
+the law.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Jeff Rankin swept all argument away with a movement of his big paws.
+&quot;<!-- Page 207 --><a name="Page_207"></a>Too much talk,&quot; he said. &quot;I want to think.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His stupid, animal eyes went laboriously around the room. &quot;I wish
+Allister was here,&quot; he said. &quot;He always knew.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For my part,&quot; said Scottie, &quot;I can't be bought. Not me!&quot; He suddenly
+leaned to the big man, and, before Andrew could speak, he had said:
+&quot;Jeff, you know why I want to get Dozier. Because he ran down my
+brother. And are you going to let him go clear, Jeff? Are you going to
+have Allister haunt you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was the decisive stroke. The big head of Jeff twitched back, he
+opened his lips to speak&mdash;and in that moment, knowing that the battle
+was over and lost to him, Andrew, who had moved back, made one leap and
+was through the door and into the little shed again. The gun had gleamed
+in the hand of Larry la Roche as he sprang, but Andrew had been too
+quick for the outlaw to plant his shot.</p>
+
+<p>He heard Jeff Rankin still speaking: &quot;I dunno, quite. But I see you're
+right, Scottie. They ain't any reason for Lanning to be so chummy with
+Dozier. And so they must be somethin' crooked about it. Boys, I'm with
+you to the limit! Go as far as you like. I'm behind you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>No room for argument now; and the blind, animal hate which Scottie and
+La Roche and Clune felt for Dozier was sure to drive them to
+extremities. Andrew sat in the dark, hurriedly going over his rifle and
+his revolver. Once he was about to throw open the door and try the
+effect of a surprise attack. He might plant two shots before there was a
+return; he let the idea slip away from him. There would remain two more,
+and one of them was certain to kill him.</p>
+
+<p>Moving across the room he heard a whisper from the floor: &quot;I've heard
+them, Lanning. Don't be a fool. Give me up to 'em!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He made no answer. In the other room the voices were no longer
+restrained; Jeff Rankin's in particular boomed <!-- Page 208 --><a name="Page_208"></a>and rang and filled the
+shed. Once bent on action he was all for the attack; whisky had removed
+the last human scruple. And Andrew heard them openly cast their ballots
+for a new leader; heard Scottie acclaimed; heard the Scotchman say:
+&quot;Boys, I'm going to show you a way to clean up on Dozier and Lanning,
+without any man risking a single shot from him in return.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They clamored for the suggestion, but he told them that he was first
+going out into the open to think it over. In the meantime they had
+nothing to fear. Sit fast and have another drink around. He had to be
+alone to figure it out.</p>
+
+<p>It was very plain. The wily rascal would let them go one step farther
+toward an insanity of drink, and then, his own brain cold and collected,
+he would come back to turn the shack into a shambles. He had said he
+could do it without risk to them. There was only one possible meaning;
+he intended to use fire.</p>
+
+<p>Andrew sat with the butt of his rifle ground into his forehead. It was
+still easy to escape; the insistent whisper from the floor was pointing
+out the way: &quot;Beat it out that back window, lad. Slope, Andy; they's no
+use. You can't help me. They mean fire; they'll pot you like a pig, from
+the dark. Give me up!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was the advice to use the window that decided Andrew. It was a wild
+chance indeed, this leaving of Dozier helpless on the floor; but he
+risked it. He whispered to the marshal that he would return, and slipped
+through the window. He was not halfway around the house before he heard
+a voice that chilled him with horror. It was the marshal calling to them
+that Andrew was gone and inviting them in to finish him. But they
+suspected, naturally enough, that the invitation was a trap, and they
+contented themselves with abusing him for thinking them such fools.</p>
+
+<p>Andrew went on; fifty feet from the house and just aside from the shaft
+of light that fell from the open door, stood <!-- Page 209 --><a name="Page_209"></a>Scottie. His head was
+bare, his face was turned up to catch the wind, and no doubt he was
+dreaming of the future which lay before him as the new captain of
+Allister's band. The whisper of Andrew behind him cut his dream short.
+He whirled to receive the muzzle of a revolver in his stomach. His hands
+went up, and he stood gasping faintly in the moonlight.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've got you, Scottie,&quot; he said, &quot;and so help me heaven, you're the
+first man that I've wanted to kill.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It would have taken a man of supernerve to outface that situation. And
+the nerve of Scottie cracked.</p>
+
+<p>He began to whisper with a horrible break and sob in his breath:
+&quot;Andy&mdash;Andy, gimme a chance. I'm not fit to go&mdash;this way. Andy,
+remember&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm going to give you a chance. You're pretty low, Scottie; I check
+what you've done to the way you hate Dozier, and I won't hold a grudge.
+And I'll tell you the chance you've got. You see these rocks, here? I'm
+goin' to lie down behind them. I'm going to keep you covered with my
+rifle. Scottie, did you ever see me shoot with a rifle?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Scottie shuddered&mdash;a very sufficient reply.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm going to keep you covered. Then you'll turn around and walk
+straight back to the shack. You'll stand there&mdash;always in clean sight
+of the doorway&mdash;and you'll persuade that crowd of drunks to leave the
+house and ride away with you. Understand, when you get inside the house,
+there'll be a big temptation to jump to one side and get behind the
+wall&mdash;just one twitch of your muscles, and you'd be safe. But, fast as
+you could move, Scottie, powder drives lead a lot faster. And I'll have
+you centered every minute. You'll make a pretty little target against
+the light, besides. You understand?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The moment you even start to move fast, I pull the trigger. Remember
+it, Scottie. For as sure as there's a hell, I'll send you into it head
+first, if you don't.&quot; &quot;<!-- Page 210 --><a name="Page_210"></a>So help me heaven,&quot; said Scottie, &quot;I'll do what
+I can. I think I can talk 'em into it. But if I don't?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you don't, you're dead. That's short, and that's sweet. Keep it in
+your head. Go back and tell them it would take too great a risk to try
+to fix me.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And there's another thing to remember. If you should be able to get
+behind the wall without being shot, you're not safe. Not by a long way,
+Scottie. I'd still be alive. And, though you'd have Hal Dozier there to
+cut up as you pleased, I'd be here outside the cabin watching it&mdash;with
+my rifle. And I'd tag some of you when you tried to get out. And if I
+didn't get you all I'd start on your trail. Scottie, you fellows, even
+when you had Allister to lead you, couldn't get off scot-free from
+Dozier. Scottie, I give you my solemn word of honor, you'll find me a
+harder man to get free from than Hal Dozier.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here's the last thing: If you do what I tell you&mdash;if you get that crowd
+of drunken brutes out of the cabin and away without harming Dozier, I'll
+wipe out the score between us. No matter what you told the rest of them,
+you know I've never broken a promise, and that I never shall.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He stopped and, stepping back to the rocks, sank slowly down behind
+them. Only the muzzle of his rifle showed, no more than the glint of a
+tiny bit of quartz; his left hand was raised, and, at its gesture,
+Scottie turned and walked slowly toward the cabin doorway. Once,
+stumbling over something, he reeled almost out of the shaft of light,
+but stopped on the edge of safety with a terrible trembling. There he
+stood for a moment, and Andrew knew that he was gathering his nerve. He
+went on; he stood in the doorway, leaning with one arm against it.</p>
+
+<p>What followed Andrew could not hear, except an occasional roar from
+Rankin. Once Larry la Roche came and stood before the new leader,
+gesturing frantically, and the ring of his voice came clearly to Andrew.
+The Scotchman <!-- Page 211 --><a name="Page_211"></a>negligently stood to one side; the way between Andrew and
+Larry was cleared, and Andrew could not help smiling at the fiendish
+malevolence of Scottie. But he was apparently able to convince even
+Larry la Roche by means of words. At length there was a bustling in the
+cabin, a loud confusion, and finally the whole troop went out. Somebody
+brought Scottie his saddle; Jeff Rankin came out reeling.</p>
+
+<p>But Scottie stirred last from the doorway; there he stood in the shaft
+of light until some one, cursing, brought him his horse. He mounted it
+in full view. Then the cavalcade started down the ravine.</p>
+
+<p>Certainly it was not an auspicious beginning for Scottie Macdougal.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER 41</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>The first ten days of the following time were the hardest; it was during
+that period that Scottie and the rest were most apt to return and make a
+backstroke at Dozier and Andrew. For Andrew knew well enough that this
+was the argument&mdash;the promise of a surprise attack&mdash;with which Scottie
+had lured his men away from the shack.</p>
+
+<p>During that ten days, and later, he adopted a systematic plan of work.
+During the nights he paid two visits to the sick man. On one occasion he
+dressed the wound; on the next he did the cooking and put food and water
+beside the marshal, to last him through the day.</p>
+
+<p>After that he went out and took up his post. As a rule he waited on the
+top of the hill in the clump of pines. From this position he commanded
+with his rifle the sweep of hillside all around the cabin. The greatest
+time of danger for Dozier was when Andrew had to scout through the
+<!-- Page 212 --><a name="Page_212"></a>adjacent hills for food&mdash;their supply of meat ran out on the
+fourth day.</p>
+
+<p>But the ten days passed; and after that, in spite of the poor care he
+had received&mdash;or perhaps aided by the absolute quiet&mdash;the marshal's iron
+constitution asserted itself more and more strongly. He began to mend
+rapidly. Eventually he could sit up, and, when that time came, the great
+period of anxiety was over. For Dozier could sit with his rifle across
+his knees, or, leaning against the chair which Andrew had improvised,
+command a fairly good outlook.</p>
+
+<p>Only once&mdash;it was at the close of the fourth week&mdash;did Andrew find
+suspicious signs in the vicinity of the cabin&mdash;the telltale trampling
+on a place where four horses had milled in an impatient circle. But no
+doubt the gang had thought caution to be the better part of hate. They
+remembered the rifle of Andrew and had gone on without making a sign.
+Afterward Andrew learned why they had not returned sooner. Three hours
+after they left the shack a posse had picked them up in the moonlight,
+and there had followed a forty-mile chase.</p>
+
+<p>But all through the time until the marshal could actually stand and
+walk, and finally sit his saddle with little danger of injuring the
+wound, Andrew, knowing nothing of what took place outside, was
+ceaselessly on the watch. Literally, during all that period, he never
+closed his eyes for more than a few minutes of solid sleep. And, before
+the danger line had been crossed, he was worn to a shadow. When he
+turned his head the cords leaped out on his neck. His mouth had that
+look, at once savage and nervous, which goes always with the hunted man.</p>
+
+<p>And it was not until he was himself convinced that Dozier could take
+care of himself that he wrapped himself in his blankets and fell into a
+twenty-four-hour sleep. He awoke finally with a start, out of a dream in
+which he had found himself, in imagination, wakened by Scottie stooping
+over <!-- Page 213 --><a name="Page_213"></a>him. He had reached for his revolver at his side, in the dream,
+and had found nothing. Now, waking, his hand was working nervously
+across the floor of the shack. That part of the dream was come true,
+but, instead of Scottie leaning over him, it was the marshal, who sat in
+his chair with his rifle across his knees. Andrew sat up. His weapons
+had been indeed removed, and the marshal was looking at him with
+beady eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Have you seen 'em?&quot; asked Andrew. &quot;Have the boys shown themselves?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He started to get up, but the marshal's crisp voice cut in on him. &quot;Sit
+down there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There had been&mdash;was it possible to believe it?&mdash;a motion of the gun in
+the hands of the marshal to point this last remark.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Partner,&quot; said Andrew, stunned, &quot;what are you drivin' at?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've been thinking,&quot; said Hal Dozier. &quot;You sit tight till I tell you
+what about.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's just driftin' into my head, sort of misty,&quot; murmured Andrew, &quot;that
+you've been thinkin' about double-crossin' me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Suppose,&quot; said the marshal, &quot;I was to ride into Martindale with you in
+front of me. That'd make a pretty good picture, Andy. Allister dead, and
+you taken alive. Not to speak of ten thousand I dollars as a background.
+That would sort of round off my work. I could retire and live happy ever
+after, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Andrew peered into the grim face of the older man; there was not a
+flicker of a smile in it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Go on,&quot; he said, &quot;but think twice, Hal. If I was you, I'd think ten
+times!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The marshal met those terrible, blazing eyes without a quiver of his
+own.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I began with thinking about that picture,&quot; he said. &quot;<!-- Page 214 --><a name="Page_214"></a>Later on I had
+some other thoughts&mdash;about you. Andy, d'you see that you don't fit
+around here? You're neither a man-killer nor a law-abidin' citizen. You
+wouldn't fit in Martindale any more, and you certainly won't fit with
+any gang of crooks that ever wore guns. Look at the way you split with
+Allister's outfit! Same thing would happen again. So, as far as I can
+see, it doesn't make much difference whether I trot you into town and
+collect the ten thousand, or whether some of the crooks who hate you run
+you down&mdash;or some posse corners you one of these days and does its job.
+How do you see it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Andrew said nothing, but his face spoke for him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How d'you see the future yourself?&quot; said the marshal. His voice changed
+suddenly: &quot;Talk to me, Andy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Andrew looked carefully at him; then he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll tell you short and quick, Hal. I want action. That's all. I want
+something to keep my mind and my hands busy. Doing nothing is the thing
+I'm afraid of.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I gather you're not very happy, Andy?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Lanning smiled, and it was not a pleasant smile to see.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm empty, Hal,&quot; he answered. &quot;Does that answer you? The crooks are
+against me, the law is against me. Well, they'll work together to keep
+me busy. I don't want any man's help. I'm a bad man, Hal. I know it. I
+don't deny it. I don't ask any quarter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was rather a desperate speech&mdash;rather a boyish one. At any rate the
+marshal smiled, and a curious flush came in Andrew's face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will you let me tell you a story, Andrew? It's a story about yourself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He went on: &quot;You were a kid in Martindale. Husky, good-natured, a little
+sleepy, with touchy nerves, not very confident in yourself. I've known
+other kids like you, but none just the same type.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You weren't waked up. You see? The pinch was bound <!-- Page 215 --><a name="Page_215"></a>to come in a town
+where every man wore his gun. You were bound to face a show-down. There
+were equal chances. Either you'd back down or else you'd give the man a
+beating. If the first thing happened, you'd have been a coward the rest
+of your life. But the other thing was what happened, and it gave you a
+touch of the iron that a man needs in his blood. Iron dust, Andy,
+iron dust!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You had bad luck, you think. You thought you'd killed a man; it made
+you think you were a born murderer. You began to look back to the old
+stories about the Lannings&mdash;a wild crew of men. You thought that blood
+was what was a-showing in you.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Partly you were right, partly you were wrong. There was a new strength
+in you. You thought it was the strength of a desperado. Do you know what
+the change was? It was the change from boyhood to manhood. That was
+all&mdash;a sort of chemical change, Andy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;See what happened: You had your first fight and you saw your first
+girl, all about the same time. But here's what puzzles me: according to
+the way I figure it, you must have seen the girl first. But it seems
+that you didn't. Will you tell me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We won't talk about the girl,&quot; said Andrew in a heavy voice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Tut, tut! Won't we? Boy, we're going to do more talking about her than
+about anything else. Well, anyway, you saw the girl, fell in love with
+her, went away. Met up with a posse which my brother happened to lead.
+Killed your man. Went on. Rode like the wind. Went through about a
+hundred adventures in as many days. And little by little you were fixing
+in your ways. You were changing from boyhood into manhood, and you were
+changing without any authority over you. Most youngsters have their
+fathers over them when that change comes. All of 'em have the law. But
+you didn't have either. And the result was that you changed <!-- Page 216 --><a name="Page_216"></a>from a boy
+into a man, and a free man. You hear me? You found that you could do
+what you wanted to do; nothing could hold you back except one
+thing&mdash;the girl!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Andrew caught his breath, but the marshal would not let him speak.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've seen other free men&mdash;most people called them desperadoes. What's a
+desperado in the real sense? A man who won't submit to the law. That's
+all he is. But, because he won't submit, he usually runs foul of other
+men. He kills one. Then he kills another. Finally he gets the blood
+lust. Well, Andy, that's what you never got. You killed one man&mdash;he
+brought it on himself. But look back over the rest of your career. Most
+people think you've killed twenty. That's because they've heard a pack
+of lies. You're a desperado&mdash;a free man&mdash;but you're not a man-killer.
+And there's the whole point.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And this was what turned you loose as a criminal&mdash;you thought the girl
+had cut loose from you. Otherwise to this day you'd have been trying to
+get away across the mountains and be a good, quiet member of society.
+But you thought the girl had cut loose from you, and it hurt you.
+Man-killer? Bah! You're simply lovesick, my boy!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Talk slow,&quot; whispered Andrew. &quot;My&mdash;my head's whirling.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It'll whirl more, pretty soon. Andy, do you know that the girl never
+married Charles Merchant?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a wild yell; Andrew was stopped in mid-air by a rifle thrust
+into his stomach.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She broke off her engagement. She came to me because she knew I was
+running the manhunt. She begged me to let you have a chance. She tried
+to buy me. She told me everything that had gone between you. Andy, she
+put her head on my desk and cried while she was begging for you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Stop!&quot; whispered Andrew.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I wouldn't lay off your trail, Andy. Why? Because <!-- Page 217 --><a name="Page_217"></a>I'm as proud as
+a devil. I'd started to get you and I'd lost Gray Peter trying. And even
+after you saved me from Allister's men I was still figuring how I could
+get you. And then, little by little, I saw that the girl had seen the
+truth. You weren't really a crook. You weren't really a man-killer. You
+were simply a kid that turned into a man in a day&mdash;and turned into a
+free man! You were too strong for the law.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, Andrew, here's my point: As long as you stay here in the mountain
+desert you've no chance. You'll be among men who know you. Even if the
+governor pardons you&mdash;as he might do if a certain deputy marshal were to
+start pulling strings&mdash;you'd run some day into a man who had an old
+grudge against you, and there'd be another explosion. Because there's
+nitroglycerin inside you, son!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, the thing for you to do is to get where men don't wear guns. The
+thing for you to do is to find a girl you love a lot more than you do
+your freedom, even. If that's possible&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where is she?&quot; broke in Andy. &quot;Hal, for pity's sake, tell me where she
+is!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've got her address all written out. She forgot nothing. She left it
+with me, she said, so she could keep in touch with me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's no good,&quot; said Andy suddenly. &quot;I could never get through the
+mountains. People know me too well. They know Sally too well.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course they do. So you're not going to go with Sally. You're not
+going to ride a horse. You're going in another way. Everybody's seen
+your picture. But who'd recognize the dashing young man-killer, the
+original wild Andrew Lanning, in the shape of a greasy, dirty tramp,
+with a ten-days-old beard on his face, with a dirty felt hat pulled over
+one eye, and riding the brake beams on the way East? And before you got
+off the beams, Andrew, the governor of this <!-- Page 218 --><a name="Page_218"></a>State will have signed a
+pardon for you. Well, lad, what do you say?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Andrew, walking like one dazed, had crossed the room slowly. The
+marshal saw him go across to the place where Sally stood; she met him
+halfway, and, in her impudent way, tipped his hat half off his head with
+a toss of her nose. He put his arm around her neck and they walked
+slowly off together.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; said Hal Dozier faintly, &quot;what can you do with a man who don't
+know how to choose between a horse and a girl?&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Way of the Lawless, by Max Brand
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAY OF THE LAWLESS ***
+
+This file should be named wylaw10h.htm or wylaw10h.zip
+Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, wylaw11h.htm
+VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, wylaw10ah.htm
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Dave Morgan, Tom Allen and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
+
+Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we usually do not
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance
+of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing.
+Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections,
+even years after the official publication date.
+
+Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til
+midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement.
+The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at
+Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month.  A
+preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment
+and editing by those who wish to do so.
+
+Most people start at our Web sites at:
+http://gutenberg.net or
+http://promo.net/pg
+
+These Web sites include award-winning information about Project
+Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new
+eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!).
+
+
+Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement
+can get to them as follows, and just download by date.  This is
+also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the
+indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an
+announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter.
+
+http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext03 or
+ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext03
+
+Or /etext02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90
+
+Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want,
+as it appears in our Newsletters.
+
+
+Information about Project Gutenberg (one page)
+
+We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work.  The
+time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours
+to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright
+searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc.   Our
+projected audience is one hundred million readers.  If the value
+per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2
+million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text
+files per month:  1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+
+We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002
+If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total
+will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end.
+
+The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks!
+This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers,
+which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users.
+
+Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated):
+
+eBooks Year Month
+
+    1  1971 July
+   10  1991 January
+  100  1994 January
+ 1000  1997 August
+ 1500  1998 October
+ 2000  1999 December
+ 2500  2000 December
+ 3000  2001 November
+ 4000  2001 October/November
+ 6000  2002 December*
+ 9000  2003 November*
+10000  2004 January*
+
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created
+to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people
+and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut,
+Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois,
+Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts,
+Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New
+Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio,
+Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South
+Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West
+Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming.
+
+We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones
+that have responded.
+
+As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list
+will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states.
+Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state.
+
+In answer to various questions we have received on this:
+
+We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally
+request donations in all 50 states.  If your state is not listed and
+you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have,
+just ask.
+
+While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are
+not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting
+donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to
+donate.
+
+International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about
+how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made
+deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are
+ways.
+
+Donations by check or money order may be sent to:
+
+Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+PMB 113
+1739 University Ave.
+Oxford, MS 38655-4109
+
+Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment
+method other than by check or money order.
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by
+the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN
+[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154.  Donations are
+tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law.  As fund-raising
+requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be
+made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+You can get up to date donation information online at:
+
+http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html
+
+
+***
+
+If you can't reach Project Gutenberg,
+you can always email directly to:
+
+Michael S. Hart hart@pobox.com
+
+Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message.
+
+We would prefer to send you information by email.
+
+
+**The Legal Small Print**
+
+
+(Three Pages)
+
+***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START***
+Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers.
+They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with
+your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from
+someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our
+fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement
+disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how
+you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to.
+
+*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK
+By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
+eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept
+this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive
+a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by
+sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person
+you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical
+medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request.
+
+ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS
+This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks,
+is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart
+through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project").
+Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright
+on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and
+distribute it in the United States without permission and
+without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth
+below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook
+under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark.
+
+Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market
+any commercial products without permission.
+
+To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable
+efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain
+works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any
+medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other
+things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
+intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged
+disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer
+codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.
+
+LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES
+But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below,
+[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may
+receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims
+all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including
+legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR
+UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT,
+INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE
+OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE
+POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES.
+
+If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of
+receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any)
+you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that
+time to the person you received it from. If you received it
+on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and
+such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement
+copy. If you received it electronically, such person may
+choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to
+receive it electronically.
+
+THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS
+TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT
+LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A
+PARTICULAR PURPOSE.
+
+Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or
+the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the
+above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you
+may have other legal rights.
+
+INDEMNITY
+You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation,
+and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated
+with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
+texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including
+legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the
+following that you do or cause:  [1] distribution of this eBook,
+[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook,
+or [3] any Defect.
+
+DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm"
+You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by
+disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this
+"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg,
+or:
+
+[1]  Only give exact copies of it.  Among other things, this
+     requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the
+     eBook or this "small print!" statement.  You may however,
+     if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable
+     binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form,
+     including any form resulting from conversion by word
+     processing or hypertext software, but only so long as
+     *EITHER*:
+
+     [*]  The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and
+          does *not* contain characters other than those
+          intended by the author of the work, although tilde
+          (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may
+          be used to convey punctuation intended by the
+          author, and additional characters may be used to
+          indicate hypertext links; OR
+
+     [*]  The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at
+          no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent
+          form by the program that displays the eBook (as is
+          the case, for instance, with most word processors);
+          OR
+
+     [*]  You provide, or agree to also provide on request at
+          no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the
+          eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC
+          or other equivalent proprietary form).
+
+[2]  Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this
+     "Small Print!" statement.
+
+[3]  Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the
+     gross profits you derive calculated using the method you
+     already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  If you
+     don't derive profits, no royalty is due.  Royalties are
+     payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation"
+     the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were
+     legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent
+     periodic) tax return.  Please contact us beforehand to
+     let us know your plans and to work out the details.
+
+WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO?
+Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of
+public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed
+in machine readable form.
+
+The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time,
+public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses.
+Money should be paid to the:
+"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or
+software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at:
+hart@pobox.com
+
+[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only
+when distributed free of all fees.  Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by
+Michael S. Hart.  Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be
+used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be
+they hardware or software or any other related product without
+express permission.]
+
+*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END*
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/old/wylaw10h.zip b/old/wylaw10h.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d344fba
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/wylaw10h.zip