He halted just inside the door, his pistol rigid in his right hand, which was pressed tightly to his side; for directly in front of him, standing, his arms folded over his chest, was Antrim, a huge, venomous grin on his face.
"Well, you got here, Lawler," he said, huskily. "You come a-runnin', didn't you? Well, I had your cattle run off, an' I burned your buildin's. What are you aimin' to do about it?"
Lawler did not move. He might have killed Antrim, for the man's weapon was in the holster at his hip—Lawler could see the stock sticking above the leather. He had expected Antrim would be in the cabin when he opened the door; he anticipated that the outlaw would shoot on sight, and he had been prepared to do the same.
But there was something in the outlaw's manner, in the cold, measured tone of his voice, in his nonchalant disregard of the pistol in Lawler's hand that brought a swift suspicion into Lawler's mind. It was a presentiment that the outlaw was not alone in the cabin; that he had carefully laid his plans, and that they did not include a gun fight in which he would have to face Lawler upon equal terms.
Lawler did not look around. He kept his gaze unwaveringly upon the outlaw, knowing that if other men were in the cabin with him they were waiting for Antrim to give the word to shoot him. Otherwise they would have shot him down when he had entered.
"Not sayin' anything, eh?" jeered Antrim. "Well, come a-shootin'. You bust in here, seein' red, with a gun in your hand; an' then stand there, like you was wonderin' if you was welcome." He peered close at Lawler, his eyes narrowing with suspicion, and then, finally, with savage amusement.
"I reckon I ketch on," he sneered. "You know there's some one here with me, an' that they've got you covered. I know you, an' I knowed you'd come rushin' in here, just like you did, killin' mad. Bah! Did you think I'd give you a chance, you short-horned maverick! There's Selden behind that curtain, there—back of the cupboard. An' Krell watchin' you from the door of that room, on the side. They've got you between them, an' if you bat an eyewinker they'll down you. I'm goin' to gas to you—I'm goin' to tell you what I think of you for ropin' me an' draggin' me back to Willets, to show to the damned yaps on the station platform. An' after that I'm goin' to hog-tie you an'—Ah!"
Antrim's exclamation was a mere gasp. It escaped his lips as Lawler jumped backward, landing outside the door, overbalanced, trying to stand upright while he snapped a shot at Antrim.
Antrim, however, had reached for his gun. It came out before Lawler could steady himself, and Lawler saw it. Lawler saw the weapon belch smoke and fire as it cleared Antrim's hip; he felt a shock as the bullet struck him; felt still another sear his flesh near the arm as he let his own pistol off. He saw the outlaw plunge forward and fall prone, his arms outstretched. He was motionless, inert.
From inside the cabin came the sounds of steps—Antrim's confederates, Lawler supposed. He heard them approach the door and he leaped, swaying a little, toward the corner of the cabin nearest him. He had reached it, had just dodged behind it, when Selden and Krell rushed out. At the same instant Shorty thundered up, slipped out of the saddle and ran toward Lawler, drawing his guns.