A swarthy man, broad of
shoulder, was the first, and afterward appeared Nash.
"Conklin?" called Deputy Glendin, and swept the room with his startled
glance. "Where's Conklin?"
He was not there; only a red stain remained on the floor to show where
he had lain.
"Where's Conklin?" called Nash.
"I'm afraid," whispered Bard quickly to the girl, "that it was more than
a game of suppose."
He said easily to the other two: "He had enough. His share of trouble
came to-night; I let him go."
"Young feller," growled Glendin, "you ain't been in town a long while,
but I've heard a pile too much about you already. What you mean by
takin' the law into your own hands?"
"Wait," said Nash, his keen eyes on the two, "I guess I understand."
"Let's have it, then."
Still the steady eyes of Nash passed from Sally Fortune to Bard and back
again.
"This feller bein' a tenderfoot, he don't understand our ways; maybe he
thinks the range is a bit freer than it is."
"That's the trouble," answered Glendin, "he thinks too damned much."
"And does quite a pile besides thinkin'," murmured Nash, but too low for
the others to hear it.
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