He darted into the bunk room. His rifle hung above his bed, and he took it down. Out of his war bag he snatched two boxes of cartridges and stuffed them in his trousers pocket. He had on his belt gun. Both six-shooter and carbine were the same caliber. Then he went back to the door. The line of riders drew close, bobbing in unison, a long row. The sun made their silver ornaments gleam—white hats and black, red horses, blacks, bays, dun, and spotted—on they came, a brave sight. Thirty riders to confront a single miscreant. Rock wondered if Charlie Shaw rode with them, and if he would stand by, unprotesting. But he had brief time to speculate. The two girls were still on the porch. Nona had her arms about Alice, steadying her, encouraging her, and Alice was sobbing in a panic of grief and fear.
“For Heaven’s sake get her and yourself inside,” Rock snapped. “This is not going to be a Sunday-school picnic. Buck Walters warned me in Fort Benton that he’d get me inside of forty-eight hours. He’s going to make it good, if he can. This is nothing for you to be mixed up in.”
“This is as good a place as any for her and me,” Nona declared. “This is my ranch. They won’t dare!”
“Dare!” Rock grinned. “The man leading that bunch will dare anything. But I aim to fool him, if I get a chance to declare myself.”
“And if you don’t, they won’t stop to listen to anything,” she declared. Her eyes were full of questions.
“From the bunk room,” Rock said softly. “I will give them a good run for their money. The walls are thick, and I have plenty of ammunition.”
The eyeballs of horses and men were visible now, faces staring from under hat brims. Rock could see Seventy Seven riders he had worked with on trail. Charlie Shaw rode beside Buck Walters and Elmer Duffy. They slowed to a trot, then to a walk and drew up before the house. Rock moved back a little in the doorway, his rifle in the crook of his arm. He stood in plain sight; but if a hand moved toward a weapon he would be under cover before it could be drawn, or fired, at least.
Walters, Duffy and Charlie Shaw dismounted. Buck Walters looked at Alice Snell, her face hidden yet against Nona’s shoulder. His own face remained impassive, but his eyes burned. And Rock got in the first word.
“Miss Snell, not liking the idea of coldblooded murder to satisfy a personal grudge, rode up a little ahead of you-all to tell us you aimed to hang Doc Martin. If——”