eele's face had lost the tinge of
color, so foreign to it in moments like this; and the cool shade, the
steady eyes like ice on fire, the ruthless lips had warned me, if they
had not Wright.

"Wright, I'll not take offense, because you seem to be championing your
beautiful cousin," replied Steele in slow speech, biting. "But let me
return your compliment. You're a fine Southerner! Why, you're only a
cheap four-flush--damned bull-headed--_rustler_"

Steele hissed the last word. Then for him--for me--for Hoden--there was
the truth in Wright's working passion-blackened face.

Wright jerked, moved, meant to draw. But how slow! Steele lunged
forward. His long arm swept up.

And Wright staggered backward, knocking table and chairs, to fall hard,
in a half-sitting posture, against the wall.

"Don't draw!" warned Steele.

"Wright, get away from your gun!" yelled the cowboy Brick.

But Wright was crazed by fury. He tugged at his hip, his face corded
with purple welts, malignant, murderous, while he got to his feet.

I was about to leap through the door when Steele shot. Wright's gun went
ringing to the floor.

Like a beast in pain Wright screamed. Frantically he waved a limp arm,
flinging blood over the white table-cloths. Steele had crippled him.

"Here, you cowboy," ordered Steele; "take him out, quick!"

Brick saw the need of expediency, if Wright did not realize it, and he
pulled the raving man out of the place. He hurried Wright down the
street, leaving the horses behind.

Steele calmly sheathed his gun.

"Well, I guess that opens the ball," he said as I came out.

Hoden seemed fascinated by the spots of blood on the table-cloths. It
was horrible to see him rubbing his hands there like a ghoul!

"I tell you what, fellows," said Steele, "we've just had a few pleasant
moments with the man who has made it healthy to keep close-mouthed in
Linrock."

Hoden lifted his shaking hands.

"What'd you wing him for?" he wailed. "He was drawin' on you. Shootin'
arms off men like him won't do out here."

I was inclined to agree with Hoden.

"That bull-headed fool will roar and butt himself with all his gang
right into our hands. He's just the man I've needed to meet. Besides,
shooting him would have been murder for me!"

"Murder!" exclaimed Hoden.

"He was a fool, and slow at that. Under such circumstances could I kill
him when I didn't have to?"

"Sure it'd been the trick." declared Jim positively. "I'm not al