ame old stunt of you gunfighters?
Meant to kill the man who offered a reward? Wanted to see Jeff Aiken
bad, huh?"

"No," replied Duane. "Your citizen here misrepresented things. He seems
a little off his head."

"Reckon he is. Somebody is, that's sure. You claim Buck Duane, then, an'
all his doings?"

"I'm Duane; yes. But I won't stand for the blame of things I never did.
That's why I'm here. I saw that placard out there offering the reward.
Until now I never was within half a day's ride of this town. I'm blamed
for what I never did. I rode in here, told who I was, asked somebody to
send for Jeff Aiken."

"An' then you set down an' let this old guy throw your own gun on you?"
queried the cowboy in amazement.

"I guess that's it," replied Duane.

"Well, it's powerful strange, if you're really Buck Duane."

A man elbowed his way into the circle.

"It's Duane. I recognize him. I seen him in more'n one place," he said.
"Sibert, you can rely on what I tell you. I don't know if he's locoed or
what. But I do know he's the genuine Buck Duane. Any one who'd ever seen
him onct would never forget him."

"What do you want to see Aiken for?" asked the cowboy Sibert.

"I want to face him, and tell him I never harmed his wife."

"Why?"

"Because I'm innocent, that's all."

"Suppose we send for Aiken an' he hears you an' doesn't believe you;
what then?"

"If he won't believe me--why, then my case's so bad--I'd be better off
dead."

A momentary silence was broken by Sibert.

"If this isn't a queer deal! Boys, reckon we'd better send for Jeff."

"Somebody went fer him. He'll be comin' soon," replied a man.

Duane stood a head taller than that circle of curious faces. He gazed
out above and beyond them. It was in this way that he chanced to see a
number of women on the outskirts of the crowd. Some were old, with
hard faces, like the men. Some were young and comely, and most of these
seemed agitated by excitement or distress. They cast fearful, pitying
glances upon Duane as he stood there with that noose round his neck.
Women were more human than men, Duane thought. He met eyes that dilated,
seemed fascinated at his gaze, but were not averted. It was the old
women who were voluble, loud in expression of their feelings.

Near the trunk of the cottonwood stood a slender woman in white. Duane's
wandering glance rested upon her. Her eyes were riveted upon him. A
soft-hearted woman, probably, who did not want to see him