serious about
anything. Lambert was not certain that he was serious in his attitude
toward Jedlick as he went away with his sweet-scented box under his arm.

By the time Lambert had finished his arrangements for a special train to
carry the first heavy shipment of the Philbrook herd to market it was
long after dark. He was in the post office when he heard the shot that,
he feared, opened hostilities between Taterleg and Jedlick. He hurried
out with the rest of the customers and went toward the hotel.

There was some commotion on the hotel porch, which it was too dark to
follow, but he heard Alta scream, after which there came another shot.
The bullet struck the side of the store, high above Lambert's head.

CHAPTER XIX

THE SENTINEL

There appeared in the light of the hotel door for a moment the figures
of struggling men, followed by the sound of feet in flight down the
steps, and somebody mounting a horse in haste at the hotel
hitching-rack. Whoever this was rode away at a hard gallop.

Lambert knew that the battle was over, and as he came to the
hitching-rack he saw that Taterleg's horse was still there. So he had
not fled. Several voices sounded from the porch in excited talk, among
them Taterleg's, proving that he was sound and untouched.

His uneasiness gone, Lambert stood a little while in front, well out in
the dark, trying to pick up what was being said, but with little result,
for people were arriving with noise of heavy boots to learn the cause of
the disturbance.

Taterleg held the floor for a little while, his voice severe as if he
laid down the law. Alta replied in what appeared to be indignant
protest, then fell to crying. There was a picture of her in the door a
moment being led inside by her mother, blubbering into her hands. The
door slammed after them, and Taterleg was heard to say in loud, firm
voice:

"Don't approach me, I tell you! I'd hit a blind woman as quick as I
would a one-armed man!"

Lambert felt that this was the place to interfere. He called Taterleg.

"All right, Duke; I'm a-comin'," Taterleg answered.

The door opened, revealing the one-armed proprietor entering the house;
revealing a group of men and women, bare-headed, as they had rushed to
the hotel at the sound of the shooting; revealing Taterleg coming down
the steps, his box of chewing gum under his arm.

Wood fastened the door back in its accustomed anchorage. His neighbors
closed round where he stood expla