ve him hell!"

Lynch darted out into the middle of the room, thrusting aside the table
with a single powerful sweep of one arm. There was no hint of reluctance
in his manner, nor lack of efficiency in the lowering droop of his big
shoulders or the way his fists fell automatically into position. His face
had hardened into a fierce mask, out of which savage eyes blazed
fearlessly.

An instant later, like the spring of a panther, Stratton's lean, lithe
body launched forward.

CHAPTER XVIII

A CHANGE OF BASE

Stratton staggered back against the wall and leaned there, panting. All
his strength had gone out in that last terrific blow, and for a space he
seemed incapable of movement. At length, conscious of a warm, moist
trickle on his chin, he raised one hand mechanically to his face and
brought it away, dabbled with bright crimson. For a moment or two he
regarded the stiff, crooked fingers and bruised knuckles in a dazed,
impersonal fashion as if the hand belonged to some one else. Then he
became aware that Bud was speaking.

"Sure," he mumbled, when the meaning of the reiterated question penetrated
to his consciousness. "I'm--all--right."

Then his head began to clear, and, slowly straightening his sagging
shoulders, he glanced down at the hulking figure sprawling motionless
amidst the debris of the wrecked table.

"Is--he--" he began slowly.

"He's out, that's all," stated Jessup crisply. "Golly, Buck! That was
some punch." He paused, regarding his friend eagerly. "What are yuh goin'
to do now?" he asked.

A tiny trickle of blood from Stratton's cut lip ran down his chin and
splashed on the front of his torn, disordered shirt.

"Wash, I reckon," he answered, with a twisted twitch of his stiff lips
that was meant to be a smile. "I sure need it bad."

"But I mean after that," explained Bud. "Don't yuh want me to saddle up
while you're gettin' ready? There ain't no point in hangin' around till he
comes to."

Buck took a step or two away from the wall and regarded the prostrate
Lynch briefly, his glance also taking in McCabe, who bent over him.

"I reckon not," he agreed briefly. "Likewise, if I don't get astride a
cayuse mighty soon, I won't be able to climb onto him at all. Go ahead and
saddle up, kid, and I'll be with you _pronto_. You'd better ride to town
with me and bring back the horse."

Bud nodded and, breaking the Colts one after another, pocketed the shells
and dropped the weapons into a