Even as a lank woman stooped to raise the head of Molly Wingate the sinewy arm back of the hand whirled Woodhull around so that he faced Banion, who had not made a move.
"Will ain't got no weapon, an' ye know it," went on the same cool voice. "What ye mean--a murder, besides that?"
He nodded toward the girl. By now the crowd surged between the two men, voices rose.
"He struck me!" broke out Woodhull. "Let me go! He struck me!"
[pg 50]
"I know he did," said the intervener. "I heard it. I don't know why. But whether it was over the girl or not, we ain't goin' to see this other feller shot down till we know more about hit. Ye can meet--"
"Of course, any time."
Banion was drawing on his glove. The woman had lifted Molly, straightened her clothing.
"All blood!" said one. "That saddle horn! What made her ride that critter?"