as a just man does the drawing of his weapon. "I've been among thieves on the highways and byways of the world before to-day, but I never run into a gang that was as low to the ground as you!"
The fellow jerked his reins to throw off Hartwell's hand.
"That's about all you need to say, pardner!" he warned.
"It does about cover the case," said Winch.
"You robbed that girl, and I want to tell you a set of crows that'd do a trick like that'd rob a church!"
Texas flung the bridle reins from him with disdain, making the horse shy and rear. The rider leaned toward him, his face black with rage.
"A bunch of tin-horns like you—"
Words were too weak for him; he cast them aside, spurred his horse forward in a sudden bound, plainly determined to ride his accuser down and trample him.
The crowd fell back with sharp cries. Texas sprang to meet the plunging horse, caught it by the bit, held it while it reared and struck at him in the agony of its rowelled sides. The rider swung his quirt, bringing the heavy, leather-braided handle down on Hartwell's head.
Then followed, as quick as a man could sling a gun and fire, a thing such as no man in that crowd
