"I hardly think we are exactly done yet, Mr. Sheriff," he said

sarcastically. "I 'm not very much worried regarding your suddenly

expressed sympathy for this fellow, or your desire to get him off

unscratched; but I feel compelled to insist upon receiving all the law

allows me in this game we 're playing. There 's another warrant in

your pocket for Winston."

"By thunder, yes; I 'd clear forgot it," fumbling at his papers.

"Well, I had n't; matter of some personal importance to me," the voice

taking on a lazy, insolent drawl. "Of course, the fellow is under

arrest all right, but that murder business is only part of it--I want

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my wife."

Winston started forward, crouching as though he would spring directly

at the other's throat.

"Your wife?" he exclaimed madly, his voice choking. "Your wife? You

've sworn out a warrant for me on account of your wife?"

"Something of that nature, I believe," gazing at him insolently.

"Abduction I think the lawyers call it, and I notice you 've got the

lady hidden away back yonder now." He pointed across the other's

shoulder. "Caught with the goods. Oh, you 're a fine preacher of

morals, but I 've got you dead to rights this time."

Winston stood as though carven from stone, his face deathly white, his

lips compressed, his gray eyes burning, never wavering from that

mocking face. With all his strength of will he battled back the first

mad impulse to throttle the man, to crush him into shapeless pulp. For

one awful moment his mind became a chaos, his blood throbbing fire. To

kill would be joy, a relief inexpressible. Farnham realized the

impulse, and drew back, not shrinking away, but bracing for the

contest. But the engineer gripped himself in time.

"Hayes," he ejaculated hoarsely, "let the lady decide this. If she

says no, then, by God, I 'll fight you all single-handed before he ever

puts touch upon her!"

Old Bill Hicks was beside him in a single stride, his face blazing.

"I 'm damned if yer will!" he growled madly. "I 'm in on this deal,

law er no law. The whole blame thing is a bluff, an' I 'll not stan'

fer it no longer. Yer step back thar, Sam Hayes, er else Gulpin County

will be lookin' 'round fer another sheriff. I 've got plumb ter the

limit o' patience in this game."

Winston grasped the old man's uplifted arm, whirling him sharply around.

"No," he exclaimed almost wearily, "it 's not to be a fight yet;

let--let her decide between us."

She was already coming, walking alone directly across the open space

toward them. The eyes of the bewildered men were upon her, marking the

white face, rendered more noticeable by its frame of dark, uncovered

hair, the firm, womanly chin, the tightly compressed lips, the

resolute, unwavering eyes. She walked firmly, confidently forward, her

head proudly uplifted, a stately dignity about her bearing which could

not be ignored. If she perceived either Winston or Farnham in that

group she gave no sign, never halting until she stood directly before

Sam Hayes. Involuntarily, unconscious of the act, the sheriff pulled

off his hat, and stood twirling it in his hands.




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