s the perverse side of
her, the cat using her claws. I tried not to be angry, but failed.

"All right. I'll take my medicine," I replied bitterly. "I'll certainly
never make love to you again. And I'll stand it if I happen to see
Waters kiss you, or any other decent fellow. But look out how you let
that damned backbiter Wright fool around you!"

I spoke to her as I had never spoken before, in quick, fierce meaning,
with eyes holding hers.

She paled. But even my scarce-veiled hint did not chill her anger.
Tossing her head she wheeled and rode away.

I followed at a little distance, and thus we traveled the ten miles back
to the ranch. When we reached the corrals she dismounted and, turning
her horse over to Dick, she went off toward the house without so much as
a nod or good-by to me.

I went down to town for once in a mood to live up to what had been
heretofore only a sham character.

But turning a corner into the main street I instantly forgot myself at
the sight of a crowd congregated before the town hall. There was a babel
of voices and an air of excitement that I immediately associated with
Sampson, who as mayor of Linrock, once in a month of moons held court in
this hall.

It took slipping and elbowing to get through the crowd. Once inside the
door I saw that the crowd was mostly outside, and evidently not so
desirous as I was to enter.

The first man I saw was Steele looming up; the next was Sampson chewing
his mustache--the third, Wright, whose dark and sinister face told much.
Something was up in Linrock. Steele had opened the hall.

There were other men in the hall, a dozen or more, and all seemed
shouting excitedly in unison with the crowd outside. I did not try to
hear what was said. I edged closer in, among the men to the front.

Sampson sat at a table up on a platform. Near him sat a thick-set
grizzled man, with deep eyes; and this was Hanford Owens, county judge.

To the right stood a tall, angular, yellow-faced fellow with a drooping,
sandy mustache. Conspicuous on his vest was a huge silver shield. This
was Gorsech, one of Sampson's sheriffs.

There were four other men whom I knew, several whose faces were
familiar, and half a dozen strangers, all dusty horsemen.

Steele stood apart from them, a little to one side, so that he faced
them all. His hair was disheveled, and his shirt open at the neck. He
looked cool and hard.

When I caught his eye I realized in an instant that the long def