“You’ve got to get out, mister,” said the deputy. He tapped his rifle menacingly, betraying a quick accession of rage that he caught, no doubt, from Corrigan. Trevison smiled coldly, and backed Nigger a little. For an instant he meditated resistance, and dropped his right hand to the butt of his pistol. A shout distracted his attention. It came from behind him—it sounded like a warning, and he wheeled, to see Carson running toward him, not more than ten feet distant, waving his hands, a huge smile on his face.
“Domned if it ain’t Trevison!” he yelled as he lunged forward and caught Trevison’s right hand in his own, pulling the rider toward him. “I’ve been wantin’ to spake a word wid ye for two weeks now—about thim cows which me brother in Illinoy has been askin’ me about, an’ divvil a chance have I had to see ye!” And as he yanked Trevison’s shoulders downward with a sudden pressure that there was no resisting, he whispered, rapidly.
“Diputies—thirty av thim wid Winchesters—on the other side av the flat-cars. It’s a thrap to do away wid ye—I heard ’em cookin’ it!”
“An’ ye wudn’t be sellin’ ’em to me at twinty-five, eh?” he said, aloud. “Go ’long wid ye—ye’re a domned hold-up man, like all the rist av thim!” And he slapped the black horse playfully in the ribs and laughed gleefully as the animal lunged at him, ears laid back, mouth open.
His eyes cold, his lips hard and straight, Trevison spurred the black again to the flat-car.
“The bars are down between us, Corrigan; it’s man to man from now on. Law or no law, I give you twenty-four hours to get your men and apparatus off my land. After that I won’t be responsible for what happens!” He heard a shout behind him, a clatter, and he turned to see ten or twelve of his men racing over the level toward him. At the same instant he heard a sharp exclamation from Corrigan; heard Gieger issue a sharp order, and a line of men raised their heads above the flat-cars, rifles in their hands, which they trained on the advancing cowboys.
Nigger leaped; his rider holding up one hand, the palm toward his men, as a sign to halt, while he charged into them. Trevison talked fast to them, while the laborers, suspending work, watched, muttering; and the rifles, resting on the flat-cars, grew steadier in their owners’ hands. The silence grew deeper; the tension was so great that when somewhere a man dropped a shovel, it startled the watchers like a sudden bomb.
It was plain that Trevison’s men wanted to fight. It was equally plain that Trevison was arguing to dissuade them. And when, muttering, and casting belligerent looks backward, they finally drew off, Trevison following, there was a sigh of relief from the watchers, while Corrigan’s face was black with disappointment.