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"I'm going to sit in this game and see it out," he said, not

unkindly.

"Please!"

Her sweet slenderness barred the way about as electively as a

mother quail does the road to her young. He smiled, put his big

hands on her elbows, and gently lifted her to one side. Then he

strode forward lightly, with the long, easy, tireless stride of a

beast of prey, striking direct for his quarry.

A bullet whizzed by his ear, and like a flash of light his weapon

was unscabbarded and ready for action. He felt a flame of fire

scorch his cheek and knew a second shot had grazed him.

"Hands up! Quick!" ordered the traveler.

Lying on the ground before him was a man with close-cropped hair

and a villainous scarred face. A revolver in his hand showed the

source of the bullets.

Eye to eye the men measured strength, fighting out to the last

ditch the moral battle which was to determine the physical one.

Sullenly, at the last, the one on the ground shifted his gaze and

dropped his gun with a vile curse.