MacQueen lost no time in announcing his new program.
"Boys, the hanging's off. I've decided to accept West's offer for
Flatray's life. It's too good to turn down."
"That's what I told you all the time," growled Buck.
"Well, I'm telling you now. The money will be divided equally among you,
except that Rosario will get my share as well as hers."
Rosario Chaves broke into fierce protests. Finding these unheeded, she
cursed the outlaws furiously and threatened vengeance upon them. She did
not want money; she wanted this man's life. The men accepted this as a
matter of course, and paid little attention to the ravings of the old
woman.
At the first news of his reprieve, Jack saw things through a haze for a
moment. But he neither broke down nor showed undue exultation.
His first thought was of relief, of profound comfort; his next of wonder
and suspicion. How under heaven had Melissy won his life for him? He
looked quickly at her, but the eyes of the girl did not meet his.
"Melissy." Flatray spoke very gently, but something in the way he spoke
compelled the young woman to meet his eyes.
Almost instantly the long lashes went down to her pale cheeks again.
MacQueen cut in suavely: "I reckon this is the time for announcements.
Boys, Miss Lee has promised to marry me."
Before the stir which this produced had died away, Flatray flashed a
question: "In exchange for my life?"
The chief of the outlaws looked at him with insolence smoldering in his
black eyes. "Now, I wonder when you ever will learn to mind your own
business, sheriff! Nobody invited you to sit into this game."
"This is my business. I make it mine. Give me a straight answer,
Melissy. Am I right? Is it for my life?"
"Yes." Her voice was so low he could hardly hear it.
"Then I won't have it! The thing is infamous. I can't hide behind the
skirts of a girl, least of all you. I can die, but, by God, I'll keep my
self-respect."
"It's all arranged," Melissy answered in a whisper.
Flatray laughed harshly. "I guess not. You can't pay my debts by giving
yourself to life-long misery."
"You're right pessimistic, sheriff," sneered MacQueen.
"What do you take me for? I won't have it. I won't have it." The sheriff's
voice was rough and hoarse. "I'd rather die fifty times."
"It's not up to you to choose, as it happens," the leader of the outlaws
suggested suavely.