The man turned upon him furiously, but he did not let go of the girl. Evidently he had expected to see a Morgan, for when his eyes fell on Scott his mouth dropped open for a moment and he stared blankly.
“Did you hear what I said?” Scott insisted with suppressed fury.
A cunning leer came over the man’s sodden face. The spectators at the two stores listened breathlessly.
“Quick work to get sweet on her so soon. Get out of the way, sonny, and go get the papers ready for that logging contract.”
Quick as a flash Scott caught the big fellow a tremendous blow on the jaw with the flat of his hand. If the man had been sober he would have hit him with his fist, but he did not want to slug him when he was in that helpless condition, much as he deserved it. Even as it was, the slap was enough. The big man let go of the girl, stumbled, lost his balance and sprawled his length on the ground, where he lay groping helplessly for his gun and muttering curses.
The girl shook her long hair from her face and cast a look of furious hatred at the fallen foe. Her chest was heaving from the desperate, but futile, struggle. Turning slowly she swept a contemptuous glance over the spectators on both porches. “Cowards!” she snapped with all the concentrated contempt she could muster. She turned and walked slowly down the street with all the dignity of a queen.
Much to Scott’s astonishment not a man had moved a hand to interfere with him. He looked them over slowly to see if they were going to mob him, but nobody moved or spoke. When he had stood there long enough to avoid any appearance of running away, he cast a curious glance at the retreating figure of the girl who had so completely ignored her rescuer, and walked slowly away toward the hotel, trying to figure out what it could all mean.
As he turned the corner of the hotel he almost laughed aloud. He was thinking what the Waits must think of his friendship now.
CHAPTER IX
SCOTT MAKES ANOTHER RESCUE
When Scott entered the hotel he was still thinking what it could all mean. Why were the men of both factions quietly looking on while a big burly drunkard dragged a child around the street by the hair? If the girl was a Morgan why had the Morgans let such an act go unchallenged? If she was a Wait why had not the rest of the gang protected her? He started. Perhaps it was the man’s own child. No matter. No man had a right to drag his own child around by the hair. Well, when the station agent came to supper he could probably explain things.