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stand still,” he ordered. “I’m takin’ your guns.”

Chapter III

    T HE blood drained away from Little Bill’s cheeks as he stood without moving even his eyes. Luther’s attention was riveted on him. They were brothers, but for the moment that had exactly no importance at all. The others watched breathlessly. Tascosa and the Sawbuck men had no thought of interfering; Luther had made his play, and he would have to see it through; but to a man, they expected to see Little Bill suddenly spring into the air and come down with his guns popping. The advantage would be all with Luther, and it was in the rules of the game that he would do something about it.
    To their amazement, however, Little Bill half-raised his hands.
    â€œAll right, Luther,” he said. “I guess it’ll have to be your way.” He spoke without anger.
    â€œI’m right glad you had a flash of sense,” his brother drawled. He took possession of Little Bill’s guns and turned them over to Tascosa. The old man’s hands trembled slightly as he took them.
    Beaudry was relieved too.
    â€œMuch obliged to you, Luther.” He grinned in a vain attempt to hide his agitation. “Bill will thank you too when he gets a chance to think things over. It’s all right to be hot-headed, but there’s no use lettin’ a little misunderstandin’ make a fool of yuh. Now—”
    â€œBeaudry—it’s the horses you want, ain’t it?” Luther cut him off sharply. “Well, there they are. You get your saddles on ’em and be on your way. Nobody here is interested in hearing you exercise your jaw. You’re overdue to leave right now.”
    Cash bristled wrathfully at this fresh affront.
    â€œThat’s more than plenty out of you,” he sneered. “I aim to remember a few things that happened here tonight.”
    â€œYou won’t be the only one,” Little Bill muttered cryptically.
    The few minutes of darkness following the long twilight were giving way to the silvery radiance of the moon. In the short while it took Beaudry and his deputies to saddle the commandeered horses it grew appreciably lighter, until it was possible to see distinctly for long distances. The sheriff had some trouble mounting the gelding. He got up at last. His men were already in their saddles.
    â€œSee you in Bowie tomorrow!” he called to Tascosa.
    â€œYeh, and you see that them horses is returned as is!” the old man shouted back.
    The little cavalcade began to move down the valley, setting a course well out from the black smudge of trees that lined the river bottom. Tascosa and his men gathered about the wagon and stared after them.
    â€œA lot of hell to raise over a horse,” the old man grumbled. “I told you them claybanks is bad luck, Bill.”
    â€œBad luck for some people, you mean,” the red-haired one answered, his tone ominous. “I’ll thank you for my guns now.”
    Tascosa handed them over.
    â€œWe ain’t seen the end of this,” he said. “He’ll make us plenty trouble from now on.”
    â€œI figure that’s true,” Little Bill admitted. “I hate to get a man in a jam on my account, but I couldn’t help it this once. If I thought anythin’ was to be gained by walkin’ wide of him now I’d let him get away with his play; but I know better. I said no man was takin’ Six-gun. I meant it, and I mean it now. Luther stopped me once. Don’t none of you-all try it a second time. I’m warnin’ you I’m on my own. I’ve got an ace up my sleeve and I’m playin’ it I”
    As they gazed at him, wondering just what he meant, they saw him put his fingers to his mouth. A long-drawn, piercing whistle rang out. It carried down the river to the little group of horsemen, by now upwards of two hundred yards away. It bore instant result, for Six-gun reared up on its hind legs