[pg 48]
"What do you mean, you damned fool, you, by riding my horse off without my consent!" he broke out. "If she ain't dead--that damned wild horse--you had the gall--"
Will Banion's self-restraint at last was gone. He made one answer, voicing all his acquaintance with Sam Woodhull, all his opinion of him, all his future attitude in regard to him.
He dropped his hat to the ground, caught off one wet glove, and with a long back-handed sweep struck the cuff of it full and hard across Sam Woodhull's face.
[pg 49]
CHAPTER VI -ISSUE JOINED
There were dragoon revolvers in the holsters at Woodhull's saddle. He made a rush for a weapon--indeed, the crack of the blow had been so sharp that the nearest men thought a shot had been fired--but swift as was his leap, it was not swift enough. The long, lean hand of the bearded Missourian gripped his wrist even as he caught at a pistol grip. He turned a livid face to gaze into a cold and small blue eye.
"No, ye don't, Sam!" said the other, who was first of those who came up running.