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.

"Run to earth," he snarled, his lip lifting from the tobacco-stained
upper teeth in an ugly fashion.

The girl ran toward the Westerner and caught at his arm. "Don't
shoot," she implored

Without moving his eyes from the man on the ground he swept her back.

"This outfit is too prevalent with its hardware," he growled. "Chew