Mark Tapper flushed brick red, and rose.
"Bear Cat," he said slowly. "Your father lies in jail waiting trial. I can do a heap to help him—and a heap to hurt him. You'd better think twice before you turn me away with insults."
Turner's voice hardened and his eyes became menacing slits.
"Yes—he lays in jail because Kinnard Towers bartered with ye ter jail him, but I hain't a-goin' ter barter with ye ter free him. Ye talks of turnin' ye away with insult—but I tells ye now hit's all I kin do ter turn ye away without killin' ye."
Stacy was unarmed and Mark's own automatic pistol was in his coat pocket. He should have known better, but the discovery that somehow Bear Cat Stacy had learned his complicity in a murder plot blinded him with an insane fury of fear and the hand leaped, armed, from its pocket.
"Ef I war you," suggested Bear Cat, who had not moved the folded arms on his chest, "I wouldn't undertake no vi'lence—leastways tell I'd looked well about me. Hev a glance at that trap overhead—an' them two doors."
Already the officer, with deep chagrin, recognized his folly. The open trap of the loft bristled with rifle mouths. The two doors which had a moment before been closed were now open and showed other muzzles peeping through, but who the men behind the guns might be, there was no indication—and there had been no sound.
"I didn't need ter show them guns—jest fer you," said Bear Cat slowly. "A man don't hardly need ter call his folks tergether ter fight a skunk—but I knowed thet ye'd go back ter Kinnard Towers, an' I'd jest as lief hev ye name hit ter him, thet ye didn't find me hyar all by myself." He paused and then the cold contempt of his manner gave way to a more explosive anger.
"I aims ter furnish ye with a lantern an' one of my men will start ye on yore road.... I wants ter see thet lantern goin' over ther hill-top plumb outen sight—an' I don't want ter see hit hesitate whilst hit goes. Ef hit does pause—or ef ye ever comes back ter me ergin with any proffer of partnership, so holp me God Almighty, I'll send yore scalp ter Washin'ton with my regards ter ther government." He pointed a peremptory finger to the front door. "Now, damn ye, begone an' go swiftly!"
Outside Tapper saw a lantern moving, but revealing no face. He knew that it was attached to a long pole and that one side was masked—the hill device of men who need light for their footsteps yet seek to avoid becoming conspicuous—and he followed its glimmer until a voice said, "I reckon ye kin go yore own route from hyar—yon way lies ther high road. Ye kin tek ther lantern with ye."