you wish, to prove to you I'm square," Texas told them earnestly.
"You can begin by handin' over that gun," Duncan suggested, reaching out his hand.
Texas stepped back. There was a quick, uneasy movement among the others as they drew away from the wagon, as if to get out of the light, for Hartwell's reputation with a gun had spread over the range from his meeting with Johnnie Mackey's gang in Cottonwood.
"I'll go with you and help you turn them southern cow-men back, sir, or I'll go alone and do my best to turn 'em, but, gentlemen, I'm goin' to keep this gun."
Duncan did not speak for a little while. The others edged back into the circle of light, and drew near to where Duncan stood, judicial and gray, as if thinking the proposal over.
"All right," said he at last, "you can go with us. There's a little man by the name of Winch that wants to see you, anyhow."
They dismissed Texas with that, and left him to his own devices while they hurried on with the freighting of the wagon. From the look of things they were preparing to make a regular campaign of it. Rations for many days were being loaded, and Duncan's camp cook was hitching in two teams to haul the heavy wagon to the front.
