LITMIR.BIZ

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the burning of the saloon," said Haines.

      "What the hell! Are you still thinkin' about that?"

      "I certainly am."

      "Then I'll trade you news," said Terry Jordan, lowering his voice so that it would not reach the suspicious ear of Jim Silent. "I'll tell you about the burnin' if you'll tell me something about Barry's fight with Silent!"

      "It's a trade," answered Haines.

      "All right. Seems old Joe Cumberland had a hunch to clean up the landscape—old fool! so he jest up in the mornin' an' without sayin' a word to any one he downs to the saloon and touches a match to it. When he come back to his house he tells his girl, Kate, what he done. With that she lets out a holler an' drops in a faint."

      Haines muttered.

      "What's the matter?" asked Terry, a little anxiously.

      "Nothin," said Haines. "She fainted, eh? Well, good!"

      "Yep. She fainted an' when she come to, she told Cumberland that Dan was in the saloon, an' probably too weak to get out of the fire. They started for the place on the run. When they got there all they found was a pile of red hot coals. So everyone figures that he went up in the flames. That's all I know. Now what about the fight?"

      Lee Haines sat with fixed eyes.

      "There isn't much to say about the fight," he said at last.

      "The hell there isn't," scoffed Terry Jordan. "From what I heard, this Whistling Dan simply cut loose and raised the devil more general than a dozen mavericks corralled with a bunch of yearlings."

      "Cutting loose is right," said Haines. "It wasn't a pleasant thing to watch. One moment he was about as dangerous as an eighteen-year-old girl. The next second he was like a panther that's tasted blood. That's all there was to it, Terry. After the first blow, he was all over the chief. You know Silent's a bad man with his hands?"

      "I guess we all know that," said Jordan, with a significant smile.

      "Well," said Haines, "he was like a baby in the hands of Barry. I don't like to talk about it—none of us do. It makes the flesh creep."

      There was a loud crackling among the underbrush several hundred yards away. It drew closer and louder.

      "Start up your works agin, will you, Bill?" called Silent. "Here comes Shorty Rhinehart, an' he's overdue."

      In a moment Shorty swung from his horse and joined the group. He gained his nickname from his excessive length, being taller by an inch or two than Jim Silent himself, but what he gained in height he lost in width. Even his face was monstrously long, and marked with such sad lines that the favourite name of "Shorty" was affectionately varied to "Sour-face" or "Calamity." Silent went to him at once.

      "You seen Hardy?" he asked.

      "I sure did," said Rhinehart, "an' it's the last time I'll make that trip to him, you can lay to that."

      "Did he give you the dope?"

      "No."

      "What do you mean?"

      "I jest want you to know that this here's my last trip to Elkhead— on any business."

      "Why?"

      "I passed three marshals on the street, an' I knew them all. They was my friends, formerly. One of them was—"

      "What did they do?"

      "I waved my hand to them, glad an' familiar. They jest grunted. One of them, he looked up an' down the street, an' seein' that no one was in sight, he come up to me an' without shakin' hands he says: 'I'm some surprised to see you in Elkhead, Shorty.' 'Why,' says I, 'the town's all right, ain't it?' 'It's all right,' he says, 'but you'd find it a pile more healthier out on the range.'"

      "What in hell did he mean by that?" growled Silent.

      "He simply meant that they're beginnin' to think a lot more about us than they used to. We've been pullin' too many jobs the last six months."

      "You've said all that before, Shorty. I'm runnin' this gang. Tell me about Hardy."

      "I'm comin' to that. I went into the Wells Fargo office down by the railroad, an' the clerk sent me back to find Hardy in the back room, where he generally is. When he seen me he changed colour. I'd jest popped my head through the door an' sung out: 'Hello, Hardy, how's the boy?' He jumped up from the desk an' sung out so's his clerk in the outside room could hear: 'How are you, lad?' an' he pulled me quick into the room an' locked the door behind me.

      "'Now what in hell have you come to Elkhead for?' says he.

      "'For a drink' says I, never battin' an eye.

      "'You've come a damn long ways,' says he.

      "'Sure,' says I, 'that's one reason I'm so dry. Will you liquor, pal?'

      "He looked like he needed a drink, all right. He begun loosening his shirt collar.

      "'Thanks, but I ain't drinkin', says he. 'Look here, Shorty, are you loco to come ridin' into Elkhead this way?'

      "'I'm jest beginnin' to think maybe I am,' says I.

      "'Shorty,' he says in a whisper, 'they're beginnin' to get wise to the whole gang—includin' me.'

      "'Take a brace,' says I. 'They ain't got a thing on you, Hardy.'

      "'That don't keep 'em from thinkin' a hell of a pile,' says he, 'an' I tell you, Shorty, I'm jest about through with the whole works. It ain't worth it—not if there was a million in it. Everybody is gettin' wise to Silent, an' the rest of you. Pretty soon hell's goin' to bust loose.'

      "'You've been sayin' that for two years,' says I.

      "He stopped an' looked at me sort of thoughtful an' pityin'. Then he steps up close to me an' whispers in that voice: 'D'you know who's on Silent's trail now? Eh?'

      "'No, an' I don't give a damn,' says I, free an' careless.

      "'Tex Calder!' says he."

      Silent started violently, and his hand moved instinctively to his six- gun.

      "Did he say Tex Calder?"

      "He said no less," answered Shorty Rhinehart, and waited to see his news take effect. Silent stood with head bowed, scowling.

      "Tex Calder's a fool," he said at last. "He ought to know better'n to take to my trail."

      "He's fast with his gun," suggested Shorty.

      "Don't I know that?" said Silent. "If Alvarez, an' Bradley, an' Hunter, an' God knows how many more could come up out of their graves, they'd tell jest how quick he is with a six-gun. But I'm the one man on the range that's faster."

      Shorty was eloquently mute.

      "I ain't askin' you to take my word for it," said Jim Silent. "Now that he's after me, I'm glad of it. It had to come some day. The mountains ain't big enough for both of us to go rangin' forever. We had to lock horns some day. An' I say, God help Tex Calder!"

      He turned abruptly to the rest of the men.

      "Boys, I got somethin' to tell you that Shorty jest heard. Tex Calder is after us."

      There came a fluent outburst of cursing.

      Silent went on: "I know jest how slick Calder is. I'm bettin' on my draw to be jest the necessary half a hair quicker. He may die shootin'. I don't lay no bets that I c'n nail him before he gets his iron out of its leather, but I say he'll be shootin' blind when he dies. Is there any one takin' that bet?"

      His eyes challenged them one after another. Their glances travelled past Silent as if they were telling over and over to themselves the stories of those many men to whom Tex Calder had played the part of Fate. The leader turned back to Shorty Rhinehart.

      "Now tell me what he had to say about the coin."

      "Hardy says the shipment's delayed. He don't know how long."

      "How'd

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