oor," ordered a voice from the hall, shaking the knob
violently.

"You don't know he killed your brother. Someone else may have done it. And
it may have been done in self defence," the Arkansas girl said to Boone in
a voice so low and reluctant that it appeared the words were wrung from
her by torture.

"Think I'm a buzzard head? Why for did he run away? Why did he jump for
the sandhills soon as the word came to arrest him?" He snapped together
his straight, thin-lipped mouth, much as a trap closes on its prey.

A heavy weight hurtled against the door and shook it to the hinges.
Melissy had been edging to the right. Now with a twist of her lissom body
she had slipped past the furious man and turned the key.

Jack Flatray came into the room. His glance swept the young women and
fastened on the man. In the crossed eyes of the two was the thrust of
rapiers, the grinding of steel on steel, that deadly searching for
weakness in the other that duelists employ.

The deputy spoke in a low soft drawl. "Mornin', Boone. Holding an
executive session, are you?"

The lids of the detective narrowed to slits. From the first there had been
no pretense of friendship between these two. There are men who have only
to look once at each other to know they will be foes. It had been that way
with them. Causes of antagonism had arisen quickly enough. Both dominant
personalities, they had waged silent unspoken warfare for the leadership
of the range. Later over the favor of Melissy Lee this had grown more
intense, still without having ever been put into words. Now they were face
to face, masks off.

"Why yes, until you butted in, Mr. Sheriff."

"This isn't my busy day. I thought I'd just drop in to the meeting."

"You've made a mistake. We're not holding a cattle rustlers' convention."

"There are so many ladies present I can't hear you, but maybe if you said
it outside I could," the deputy suggested gently, a gleam of steely anger
in his eyes.

"Say it anywhere to oblige a friend," sneered Boone.

From the moment of meeting neither man had lowered his gaze by the
fraction of an inch. Red tragedy was in the air. Melissy knew it. The
girl from Arkansas guessed as much. Yet neither of them knew how to avert
the calamity that appeared impending. One factor alone saved the situation
for the moment. Flatray had not yet heard of the shooting of Bellamy. Had
he known he would have arrested Boone on the spot and the latter would
have drawn