for
God's sake don't let Mac know what I want, or he'd be sure to go after
Barry and get what I got.'"

Mac Strann crushed the hand of Haw-Haw in a terrible grip.

"Partner," he said, "d'you swear this is straight?"

"So help me God!" repeated the perjurer.

"Then," said Mac Strann, "I got to leave the buryin' to other men what
I'll hire. Me--I've got business on hand. Where did Barry run to?"

"He ain't run," cried Haw-Haw, choking with a strange emotion. "The
fool--the damned fool!--is waiting right down here in O'Brien's bar for
you to come. He's _darin'_ you to come!"

Mac Strann made no answer. He cast a single glance at the peaceful face
of Jerry, and then started for the door. Haw-Haw waited until the door
closed; then he wound his arms about his body, writhed in an ecstasy of
silent laughter, and followed with long, shambling strides.

CHAPTER XVII

BUCK MAKES HIS GET-AWAY

Straight from the room of the dead man, Fatty Matthews had hurried down
to the bar, and there he stepped into the silence and found the battery
of eyes all turned upon that calm figure at the end of the room. Upon
this man he trotted, breathing hard, and his fat sides jostled up and
down as he ran. According to Brownsville, there were only two things
that could make Fatty run: a gun or the sight of a drink. But all maxims
err. When he reached Barry he struck him on the shoulder with a heavy
hand. That is, he struck at the shoulder, but as if the shadow of the
falling hand carried a warning before it, at the same time that it
dropped Barry swerved around in his chair. Not a hurried movement, but
in some mysterious manner his shoulder was not in the way of the plump
fist. It struck, instead, upon the back of the chair, and the marshal
cursed bitterly.

"Stranger," he said hotly, "I got one thing to say: Jerry Strann has
just died upstairs. In ten seconds Mac Strann will be down here lookin'
for _you_!"

He stepped back, humming desperately to cover his wheezing, but Barry
continued to braid the horsehair with deft fingers.

"I got a double knot that's kind of new," he said. "Want to watch me
tie it?"

The deputy sheriff turned on the crowd.

"Boys," he exclaimed, waving his arms, "he's crazy. You heard what he
said. You know I've give him fair warning. If we got to dig his grave in
Brownsville, is it my fault? It ain't!" He stepped to the bar and
pounded upon it. "O'Brien, for God's sake, a drink!"

It was a welcome