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The morning was sunny and warm。 A group of shirt…sleeved men lounged
in the hall and before the porch of the double cabin。 Her father was
pacing up and down； talking forcibly。 Ellen heard his hoarse voice。
As she approached he ceased talking and his listeners relaxed their
attention。 Ellen's glance ran over them swiftlyDaggs； with his
superb head； like that of a hawk； uncovered to the sun； Colter with
his lowered； secretive looks； his sand…gray lean face； Jackson Jorth；
her uncle； huge； gaunt； hulking； with white in his black beard and hair；
and the fire of a ghoul in his hollow eyes； Tad Jorth； another brother
of her father's； younger； red of eye and nose； a weak…chinned drinker
of rum。 Three other limber…legged Texans lounged there； partners of
Daggs； and they were sun…browned； light…haired； blue…eyed men singularly
alike in appearance； from their dusty high…heeled boots to their broad
black sombreros。 They claimed to be sheepmen。 All Ellen could be sure
of was that Rock Wells spent most of his time there； doing nothing but
look for a chance to waylay her； Springer was a gambler； and the third；
who answered to the strange name of Queen； was a silent； lazy；
watchful…eyed man who never wore a glove on his right hand and who
never was seen without a gun within easy reach of that hand。
〃Howdy； Ellen。 Shore you ain't goin' to say good mawnin' to this
heah bad lot？〃 drawled Daggs； with good…natured sarcasm。
〃Why； shore！ Good morning； y'u hard…working industrious MANANA sheep
raisers；〃 replied Ellen； coolly。
Daggs stared。 The others appeared taken back by a greeting so foreign
from any to which they were accustomed from her。 Jackson Jorth let out
a gruff haw…haw。 Some of them doffed their sombreros； and Rock Wells
managed a lazy； polite good morning。 Ellen's father seemed most
significantly struck by her greeting； and the least amused。
〃Ellen； I'm not likin' your talk； 〃 he said； with a frown。
〃Dad； when y'u play cards don't y'u call a spade a spade？〃
〃Why； shore I do。〃
〃Well； I'm calling spades spades。〃
〃Ahuh！〃 grunted Jorth； furtively dropping his eyes。 〃Where you goin'
with your gun？ I'd rather you hung round heah now。〃
〃Reckon I might as well get used to packing my gun all the time；〃
replied Ellen。 〃Reckon I'll be treated more like a man。〃
Then the event Ellen had been expecting all morning took place。
Simm Bruce and Lorenzo rode around the slope of the Knoll and
trotted toward the cabin。 Interest in Ellen was relegated to
the background。
〃Shore they're bustin' with news；〃 declared Daggs。
〃They been ridin' some； you bet；〃 remarked another。
〃Huh！〃 exclaimed Jorth。 〃Bruce shore looks queer to me。〃
〃Red liquor；〃 said Tad Jorth； sententiously。 〃You…all know the
brand Greaves hands out。〃
〃Naw； Simm ain't drunk；〃 said Jackson Jorth。 〃Look at his bloody shirt。〃
The cool； indolent interest of the crowd vanished at the red color
pointed out by Jackson Jorth。 Daggs rose in a single springy motion
to his lofty height。 The face Bruce turned to Jorth was swollen and
bruised； with unhealed cuts。 Where his right eye should have been
showed a puffed dark purple bulge。 His other eye； however； gleamed
with hard and sullen light。 He stretched a big shaking hand toward Jorth。
Thet Nez Perce Isbel beat me half to death；〃 he bellowed。
Jorth stared hard at the tragic； almost grotesque figure； at the
battered face。 But speech failed him。 It was Daggs who answered Bruce。
〃Wal； Simm； I'll be damned if you don't look it。〃
〃Beat you！ What with？〃 burst out Jorth； explosively。
〃I thought he was swingin' an ax； but Greaves swore it was his fists；〃
bawled Bruce； in misery and fury。
〃Where was your gun？〃 queried Jorth； sharply。
〃Gun？ Hell！〃 exclaimed Bruce； flinging wide his arms。 〃Ask Lorenzo。
He had a gun。 An' he got a biff in the jaw before my turn come。
Ask him？〃
Attention thus directed to the Mexican showed a heavy discolored
swelling upon the side of his olive…skinned face。 Lorenzo looked
only serious。
〃Hah！ Speak up；〃 shouted Jorth； impatiently。
〃Senor Isbel heet me ver quick；〃 replied Lorenzo； with expressive
gesture。 〃I see thousand starsthen moocho blackall like night。〃
At that some of Daggs's men lolled back with dry crisp laughter。
Daggs's hard face rippled with a smile。 But there was no humor
in anything for Colonel Jorth。
〃Tell us what come off。 Quick！〃 he ordered。 〃Where did it happen？
Why？ Who saw it？ What did you do？ 〃
Bruce lapsed into a sullen impressiveness。 〃Wal； I happened in
Greaves's store an' run into Jean Isbel。 Shore was lookin' fer him。
I had my mind made up what to do； but I got to shootin' off my gab
instead of my gun。 I called him Nez Percean' I throwed all thet
talk in his face about old Gass Isbel sendin' fer him…an' I told
him he'd git run out of the Tonto。 Reckon I was jest warmin' up。
。 。 。 But then it all happened。 He slugged Lorenzo jest one。 An'
Lorenzo slid peaceful…like to bed behind the counter。 I hadn't time
to think of throwin' a gun before he whaled into me。 He knocked out
two of my teeth。 An' I swallered one of them。〃
Ellen stood in the background behind three of the men and in the
shadow。 She did not join in the laugh that followed Bruce's remarks。
She had known that he would lie。 Uncertain yet of her reaction to this；
but more bitter and furious as he revealed his utter baseness； she
waited for more to be said。
〃Wal； I'll be doggoned；〃 drawled Daggs。
〃What do you make of this kind of fightin'？〃 queried Jorth；
〃Darn if I know；〃 replied Daggs in perplexity。 〃Shore an' sartin
it's not the way of a Texan。 Mebbe this young Isbel really is what
old Gass swears he is。 Shore Bruce ain't nothin' to give an edge to
a real gun fighter。 Looks to me like Isbel bluffed Greaves an' his
gang an' licked your men without throwin' a gun。〃
〃Maybe Isbel doesn't want the name of drawin' first blood；〃
suggested Jorth。
〃That 'd be like Gass；〃 spoke up Rock Wells； quietly。 I onct rode
fer Gass in Texas。〃
〃Say； Bruce；〃 said Daggs； 〃was this heah palaverin' of yours an'
Jean Isbel's aboot the old stock dispute？ Aboot his father's range
an' water？ An' partickler aboot； sheep？〃
〃WalII yelled a heap；〃 declared Bruce； haltingly； 〃but I don't
recollect all I saidI was riled。 。 。 。 Shore； though it was the same
old argyment thet's been fetchin' us closer an' closer to trouble。〃
Daggs removed his keen hawklike gaze from Bruce。 Wal； Jorth； all I'll
say is this。 If Bruce is tellin' the truth we ain't got a hell of a
lot to fear from this young Isbel。 I've known a heap of gun fighters
in my day。 An' Jean Isbel don't ran true to class。 Shore there never
was a gunman who'd risk cripplin' his right hand by sluggin' anybody。〃
〃Wal；〃 broke in Bruce； sullenly。 〃You…all can take it daid straight
or not。 I don't give a damn。 But you've shore got my hunch thet Nez
Perce Isbel is liable to handle any of you fellars jest as he did me；
an' jest as easy。 What's more； he's got Greaves figgered。 An' you…all
know thet Greaves is as deep in〃
〃Shut up that kind of gab；〃 demanded Jorth； stridently。 〃An' answer me。