Jordan through fear and what capacity for that emotion remained in
the rancher. He struck at once.

"Jordan, have you got a gun with you?"

"Gun? Nope. What do I need a gun for?"

"Take this, then. It's my old gat. You know it pretty near as well as I
do."

A nerveless hand accepted the heavy weapon and allowed it to sink idly
upon his knee.

"How come?" drawled Jordan, and the heart of Lew Hervey sank. This was
certainly not the voice of a man liable to panic.

"You and me got a bad time coming, Jordan, when we get to the ranch.
He's there, and he's a devil for a fight!"

"Who?"

"Him! You remember that fight you got into in that saloon up in Wyoming?
That night you and me was at the cross-roads saloon and you got off your
feed with red-eye?"

The figure on the seat of the buckboard grew taller.

"Do I remember? Aye, and I'll never forget! The one downright bad thing
I've ever done, Hervey. It was the infernal red-eye that made me a crazy
man. You should of let me go back and see how bad he was hurt, Lew!"

"Nope. I was right. Best thing a gent can do after he's dropped his man
is to climb a hoss and feed it leather."

"He didn't have a gun," groaned Jordan heavily. "But I forgot it. The
red-eye got to working on me. I was losing. It was the one rotten yaller
thing I ever done, Lew!"

"I know. And now he's here. He's Red Perris!"

"Red Perris!" breathed Oliver Jordan. "The man Marianne sent for? Why--
why it's like fate, her bringing him right to the ranch!"

Hervey was discreetly silent.

"But," cried Jordan suddenly, and there was a ghost of the old ring in
his voice, "I dropped him once by a crooked play and now I'll drop him
fair and square, if he's here looking for trouble! I don't want your
help, Lew. Mighty fine of you to offer it, but I ain't plumb forgot how
to shoot. I don't want help!"

Hervey waited a moment for that heat of defiance to die away. Then he
said with the quiet of certainty: "No use, Jordan. No use at all.
Shorty seen this gent do some shooting on the way up to the ranch. He
pulled on a squirrel that dodged across the trail. First slug knocked
dust into the squirrel's belly-fur and the second chipped off his tail.
Both of them slugs would have landed dead-center in a target as big as
the body of a man!"

He paused again. He could hear the heavy breathing of Oliver Jordan and
the figure of the driver swayed a little back and forth in the seat as a
man will do when his mi