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justified.

Sheriff Gage thought so, too. For, after Laskarā€™s body had been carried away, Harlan stepped to where the sheriff stood and spoke shortly:

ā€œYou wantinā€™ me for this?ā€

Sheriff Gage shook his head. ā€œI reckon everybody saw Laskar go for his gun. There was no call for him to go for his gun. If youā€™d have shot him without him reachinā€™ for it things would have been different.ā€

Harlan said coldly, ā€œIā€™m ready for that trial, now.ā€

The sheriffā€™s eyes glowed with some secret significance as they met Harlanā€™s. He was standing at a little distance from Deveny, and he deliberately closed an eye at Harlan.

ā€œTrialā€”hell!ā€ he declared, ā€œyouā€™ve destroyed the evidence.ā€

Harlan wheeled, to see Deveny standing near. And for an instant as their eyes metā€”Harlanā€™s level and cold, Devenyā€™s aflame with a hostility unmistakableā€”the crowd which had witnessed the shooting of Laskar again became motionless, while a silence, portending further violence, descended over the street.

Then Deveny abruptly wheeled and began to walk across to the First Chance.

He had not taken many steps, however, when there were sounds of commotion farther down the street toward the Eating-Houseā€”a man cursing and a girl screaming.

Deveny halted and faced the point from which the sounds came, and a scowl appeared on his face.

Harlan wheeled, also. And he saw, at a little distance down the street, a girl running, her hair tossing in a mass around her, her eyes wild with fright and terror. Behind her came a man, cursing as he ran.

Harlan heard Sheriff Gage curse, tooā€”heard him say:

ā€œThatā€™s Lane Morganā€™s daughterā€”Barbara! What in hell is she doinā€™ here?ā€

The girl, not more than a dozen feet ahead of her pursuer, ran straight toward Harlan. And whenā€”as she drew closer and he saw that she was, indeed, actually coming toward himā€”her eyes on him as though she had singled him out as a protectorā€”he advanced toward her, drawing one of his guns as he went.

And, grinning as she neared him, he opened his arms wide and she ran straight into them, and laid her head on his shoulder, sobbing, and talking incoherently. While Harlan, his grin fading as he looked at her pursuerā€”who had halted within half a dozen paces of the girlā€”commanded lowly:

ā€œYouā€™re runninā€™ plumb into a heap of trouble, mister man. Throw your rope around the snubbinā€™ post. Then get on your hind legs anā€™ do some explaininā€™. What you chasinā€™ this girl for?ā€

The man reddened, looked downward, then up at Deveny. The latter, a pout on his lips, his eyes glowing savagely, walked to where Harlan stood with one arm around the girl, while Lawson, Rogers, Gage, and several other men advanced slowly and stood near him.

CHAPTER VII SINGLE-HANDED

Noting the concerted movement toward him, Harlan grinned at Barbara, gently disengaged himself from her grasp, and urged her toward the door of the sheriffā€™s office. She made no objection, for she felt that further trouble impended, and she knew she must not impede any action her rescuer planned.

Reaching the street a few minutes before, she had noted the preparations for the swift tragedy that had followed; and despite her wild desire to escape Devenyā€™s man, she had halted, fascinated by the spectacle presented by the two men, gambling with death.

She had halted at a little distance, crouching against the front of a building. And while she had been crouching there, trembling with a new apprehension, her pursuer had caught her.

She had hardly been aware of him, and his grasp on her arm she had not resisted, so intense was her interest in what was transpiring. But the sudden ending of the affair brought again into her consciousness the recollection of her own peril, and when she saw Deveny cross the street she broke from the manā€™s restraining grasp and ran to Harlan, convinced that heā€”because he seemed to be antagonistic toward the forces arrayed against herā€”would protect her.

And now, shrinking into the open doorway of the sheriffā€™s office, she watched breathlessly, with straining senses, the moving figures in the drama.

Harlan had backed a little way toward the doorway in which Barbara stood. The movement was strategic, and had been accomplished with deliberation. He was facing Lamoā€™s populationā€”at least that proportion of it which was at homeā€”with the comforting assurance that no part of it could get behind him.

The gun he had drawn upon the approach of Barbaraā€™s pursuer was still in his right hand. It menaced no one, and yet it seemed to menace everyone within range of it.

For though the gun was held loosely in Harlanā€™s hand, the muzzle downward, there was a glow in the manā€™s eyes that conveyed a warning.

The smile on his face, too, was pregnant with the promise of violence. It was a surface smile, penetrating no deeper than his lips, and behind it, partially masked by the smile, the men in the group in the street could detect the destroying passion that ruled the man at this instant.

Deveny, who had approached to a point within a dozen feet of Harlan, came to a slow, reluctant halt when he caught a glimpse of the strange glow in Harlanā€™s eyes. All the others, Sheriff Gage included, likewise haltedā€”most of them at a considerable distance, as their conceptions of prudence suggested.

Harlanā€™s grin grew ironic as he noted the pauseā€”the concerted rigidity of Lamoā€™s population.

ā€œSeems thereā€™s a heap of folks wantinā€™ to palaver,ā€ he said lowly. ā€œAnā€™ no one is crowdinā€™ me. Thatā€™s polite anā€™ proper. Seems you all sort of guessed thereā€™s plenty of room, anā€™ crowdinā€™ ainā€™t necessary. Iā€™d thank every specimen to hook his thumbs in the armholes of his vestā€”same as though heā€™s a member of the pussy-cafĆ© outfit which Iā€™ve seen in Chicago, makinā€™ moon-eyes at girls. If thereā€™s any of you ainā€™t got on vests, why, you can fasten your sky-hooks on your shoulders any way to suit your idee of safety. Get them up!ā€

It seemed ludicrous to Barbara, despite the shadow of tragedy that lurked over it allā€”the embarrassed manner in which Lamoā€™s citizens complied with the command, and the spectacle they presented afterward.

Devenyā€™s hands were the last to go up. There was a coldly malignant glare in his eyes as under Harlanā€™s unwavering gaze he finally raised his hands and held them, palms outward, as for inspection.

Rogers had complied instantly. There was a smile on his face, faint and suggestive of grim amusement, for he had been mentally tortured over the contemplation of Barbaraā€™s predicament, and had been unable to think of any plan by which he might assist her.

Meeder Lawsonā€™s face was sullen and full of impotent rage, and he watched Deveny with a gaze of bitter accusation when he saw that the big man intended to obey Harlanā€™s order. Barbaraā€™s pursuer, having felt Devenyā€™s angry gaze upon him, and being uncomfortably conscious that Harlan had not forgotten him, was red of face and self-conscious. He started, and the red in his face deepened, when Harlan, in the silence which followed the concerted raising of hands, spoke sharply to him:

ā€œWhat was you tryinā€™ to corral that girl for? Talk fast or Iā€™ll bust you wide open!ā€

The man grinned foolishly, shooting a furtive glance at Deveny.

ā€œWhy,ā€ he said, noting Devenyā€™s scowl, ā€œI reckon it was because Iā€™d took a shine to her. I was tryinā€™ to cotton up to her on the landinā€™ about the Eatinā€™-House, anā€™ sheā€”ā€”ā€

ā€œYou lie!ā€

This was Barbara. Pale, her eyes flashing with indignation, she stepped down into the street, standing near Harlan.

ā€œThat man,ā€ Barbara went on, pointing to the red-faced pursuer, ā€œtold me early this morning that Luke Deveny had told him to watch me, that I was not to leave my room until Deveny came for me. I was a prisoner. He didnā€™t try to make love to me. I should have killed him.ā€

Speech had broken the tension under which Barbara had been laboring; the flow of words through her lips stimulated her thoughts and sent them skittering back to the salient incidents of her enforced confinement; they brought into her consciousness a recollection of the conversation she had heard between Meeder Lawson and Strom Rogers, regarding her father. She forgot Harlan, Deveny, and the others, and ran to Sheriff Gage.

Gage, a tall, slender man of forty, was pale and uncomfortable as he looked down at the girlā€™s white, upturned face. He shrank from the frenzied appeal of her eyes, and he endured the pain of her tightly gripping fingers on the flesh of his arms without flinching.

ā€œDidā€”is father dead!ā€

She waited, frantically shaking Gage. And Gage did not answer until his gaze had roamed the crowd.

Then he said slowly and reluctantly:

ā€œI reckon heā€™s dead. Deveny was tellinā€™ meā€”he was charginā€™ this man, Harlan, with killinā€™ your father.ā€

Barbara wheeled and faced Deveny. Rage, furious and passionate, had overwhelmed the grief she felt over the death of her father. The shock had been tremendous, but it had come while she had been leaning out of the window listening to Rogers and Lawsonā€”when she had lain for many minutes unconscious on the floor of the room. Therefore the emotion she experienced now was not entirely grief, it was rather a frantic yearning to punish the men who had killed her father.

ā€œYou charged this man with murdering my father?ā€ she demanded of Deveny as she walked to him and stood, her hands clenched, her face dead white and her eyes blazing hate. ā€œYou know better. I heard Strom Rogers tell Meeder Lawson that it was Dolver and Laskar and somebody he called the ā€˜Chief,ā€™ who did it. I want to know who those men are; I want to know where I can find them! I want you to tell me!ā€

ā€œYouā€™re unstrung, Barbara,ā€ said Deveny slowly, coolly, a faint smile on his face. ā€œI know nothing about it. I merely repeated to Gage the word Laskar brought. Laskar said this man Harlan shot your father. It happened about a dayā€™s ride outā€”near Sentinel Rock. If Laskar lied, he was paid for his lying. For Harlan hasā€”ā€”ā€

Deveny paused, the sentence unfinished, for the girl turned abruptly from him and walked to Harlan.

ā€œThat was Laskarā€”the man you killed just now?ā€

ā€œLaskar anā€™ Dolver,ā€ relied Harlan. ā€œThere was three of them your father said. One got away in the night, leavinā€™ Dolver anā€™ Laskar to finish the job. I run plumb into them, crossinā€™ here from Pardo. I bored Dolver, but I let Laskar off, not havinā€™ the heart to muss up the desert with scum like him.ā€

The girlā€™s eyes gleamed for an instant with venomous satisfaction. Then she said, tremulously:

ā€œAnd father?ā€

ā€œI buried him near the rock,ā€ returned Harlan, lowly.

Soundlessly, closing her eyes, Barbara sank into the dust of the street.

Harlan broke the force of her fall with his left hand, supporting her partially until she collapsed; then, his eyes alight with a cold flame, he called, sharply, his gaze still on the group of men:

ā€œGet her, Gage! Take her into your place!ā€

He waited until Gage carried the slack form inside. Then, his shoulders sagging, the heavy pistol in his right hand coming to a poise, the fingers of the left hand brushing the butt of the weapon in the holster at his left hip, the vacuous gleam in his eyes telling them all that his senses were alert to catch the slightest movement, he spoke, to Deveny:

ā€œI seen that desert deal. It wasnā€™t on the level. I ainā€™t no angel, but when I down a man I do it fair anā€™ squareā€”givinā€™ him his chance. I sent that sneak Dolver outā€”anā€™ that coyote Laskar. It was a dirty, rotten deal, the way they framed up on Morgan. Itā€™s irritated meā€”I reckon you can hear my rattles right now. Iā€™m stayinā€™ in Lamo, anā€™ Iā€™m stickinā€™ by this Barbara girl until you guys learn to walk straight up, like men!ā€

He

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