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came a lighter shot the smash of glass。 Dale ran into the
saloon。 The horses began to snort； to rear； to pound。 A low；
muffled murmur terrified Helen even as it drew her。 Dashing
at the door； she swung it in and entered。
The place was dim； blue…hazed； smelling of smoke。 Dale stood
just inside the door。 On the floor lay two men。 Chairs and
tables were overturned。 A motley； dark； shirt…sleeved；
booted； and belted crowd of men appeared hunched against the
opposite wall； with pale； set faces； turned to the bar。
Turner； the proprietor； stood at one end； his face livid；
his hands aloft and shaking。 Carmichael leaned against the
middle of the bar。 He held a gun low down。 It was smoking。
With a gasp Helen flashed her eyes back to Dale。 He had seen
her was reaching an arm toward her。 Then she saw the man
lying almost at her feet。 Jeff Mulvey her uncle's old
foreman！ His face was awful to behold。 A smoking gun lay
near his inert hand。 The other man had fallen on his face。
His garb proclaimed him a Mexican。 He was not yet dead。 Then
Helen； as she felt Dale's arm encircle her； looked farther；
because she could not prevent it looked on at that
strange figure against the bar this boy who had been such
a friend in her hour of need this nai；ve and frank
sweetheart of her sister's。
She saw a man now wild； white； intense as fire； with some
terrible cool kind of deadliness in his mien。 His left elbow
rested upon the bar； and his hand held a glass of red
liquor。 The big gun； low down in his other hand； seemed as
steady as if it were a fixture。
〃Heah's to thet half…breed Beasley an' his outfit！〃
Carmichael drank； while his flaming eyes held the crowd；
then with savage action of terrible passion he flung the
glass at the quivering form of the still living Mexican on
the floor。
Helen felt herself slipping。 All seemed to darken around
her。 She could not see Dale； though she knew he held her。
Then she fainted。
CHAPTER XXV
Las Vegas Carmichael was a product of his day。
The Pan Handle of Texas； the old Chisholm Trail along which
were driven the great cattle herds northward； Fort Dodge；
where the cowboys conflicted with the card…sharps these
hard places had left their marks on Carmichael。 To come from
Texas was to come from fighting stock。 And a cowboy's life
was strenuous； wild； violent； and generally brief。 The
exceptions were the fortunate and the swiftest men with
guns； and they drifted from south to north and west； taking
with them the reckless； chivalrous； vitriolic spirit
peculiar to their breed。
The pioneers and ranchers of the frontier would never have
made the West habitable had it not been for these wild
cowboys； these hard…drinking； hard…riding； hard…living
rangers of the barrens； these easy； cool； laconic； simple
young men whose blood was tinged with fire and who possessed
a magnificent and terrible effrontery toward danger and
death。
Las Vegas ran his horse from Widow Cass's cottage to
Turner's saloon； and the hoofs of the goaded steed crashed
in the door。 Las Vegas's entrance was a leap。 Then he stood
still with the door ajar and the horse pounding and snorting
back。 All the men in that saloon who saw the entrance of Las
Vegas knew what it portended。 No thunderbolt could have more
quickly checked the drinking； gambling； talking crowd。 They
recognized with kindred senses the nature of the man and his
arrival。 For a second the blue…hazed room was perfectly
quiet； then men breathed； moved； rose； and suddenly caused a
quick； sliding crash of chairs and tables。
The cowboy's glittering eyes flashed to and fro； and then
fixed on Mulvey and his Mexican companion。 That glance
singled out these two； and the sudden rush of nervous men
proved it。 Mulvey and the sheep…herder were left alone in
the center of the floor。
〃Howdy； Jeff ！ Where's your boss？〃 asked Las Vegas。 His
voice was cool； friendly； his manner was easy； natural； but
the look of him was what made Mulvey pale and the Mexican
livid。
〃Reckon he's home；〃 replied Mulvey。
〃Home？ What's he call home now？〃
〃He's hangin' out hyar at Auchincloss's；〃 replied Mulvey。
His voice was not strong； but his eyes were steady；
watchful。
Las Vegas quivered all over as if stung。 A flame that seemed
white and red gave his face a singular hue。
〃Jeff； you worked for old Al a long time； an' I've heard of
your differences；〃 said Las Vegas。 〃Thet ain't no mix of
mine。 。 。 。 But you double…crossed Miss Helen！〃
Mulvey made no attempt to deny this。 He gulped slowly。 His
hands appeared less steady； and he grew paler。 Again Las
Vegas's words signified less than his look。 And that look
now included the Mexican。
〃Pedro； you're one of Beasley's old hands；〃 said Las Vegas；
accusingly。 〃An' you was one of them four greasers thet
〃
Here the cowboy choked and bit over his words as if they
were a material poison。 The Mexican showed his guilt and
cowardice。 He began to jabber。
〃Shet up！〃 hissed Las Vegas； with a savage and significant
jerk of his arm； as if about to strike。 But that action was
read for its true meaning。 Pell…mell the crowd split to rush
each way and leave an open space behind the three。
Las Vegas waited。 But Mulvey seemed obstructed。 The Mexican
looked dangerous through his fear。 His fingers twitched as
if the tendons running up into his arms were being pulled。
An instant of suspense more than long enough for Mulvey
to be tried and found wanting and Las Vegas； with laugh
and sneer； turned his back upon the pair and stepped to the
bar。 His call for a bottle made Turner jump and hold it out
with shaking hands。 Las Vegas poured out a drink； while his
gaze was intent on the scarred old mirror hanging behind the
bar。
This turning his back upon men he had just dared to draw
showed what kind of a school Las Vegas had been trained in。
If those men had been worthy antagonists of his class he
would never have scorned them。 As it was； when Mulvey and
the Mexican jerked at their guns； Las Vegas swiftly wheeled
and shot twice。 Mulvey's gun went off as he fell； and the
Mexican doubled up in a heap on the floor。 Then Las Vegas
reached around with his left hand for the drink he had
poured out。
At this juncture Dale burst into the saloon； suddenly to
check his impetus； to swerve aside toward the bar and halt。
The door had not ceased swinging when again it was propelled
inward； this time to admit Helen Rayner； white and
wide…eyed。
In another moment then Las Vegas had spoken his deadly toast
to Beasley's gang and had fiercely flung the glass at the
writhing Mexican on the floor。 Also Dale had gravitated
toward the reeling Helen to catch her when she fainted。
Las Vegas began to curse； and； striding to Dale； he pushed
him out of the saloon。
〃！ What 're you doin' heah？〃 he yelled； stridently。
〃Hevn't you got thet girl to think of？ Then do it； you big
Indian！ Lettin' her run after you heah riskin' herself
thet way！ You take care of her an' Bo an' leave this deal to
me！〃
The cowboy； furious as he was at Dale； yet had keen； swift
eyes for the horses near at hand； and the m