"You talk big—knowin' I got no gun," said High Chin.
Lorry rode over to the foreman. "Here's your gun, High. I ain't no killer."
The foreman holstered the gun and reined round toward Waring. "Now do your talkin'," he challenged.
Waring made no movement, but sat quietly watching the other's gun hand. "You have your gun?" he said, as though asking a question. "If you mean business, go ahead. I'll let you get your gun out—and then I'll get you—and you know it!" And with insulting ease he flicked his burned-out cigarette in the foreman's face.
Without a word High Chin whirled his horse and rode toward the hills.
Waring sat watching him until Lorry spoke.
"They say he's put more than one man across the divide," he told his father.
"But not on an even break," said Waring. "Get that hombre on his horse.
He's in bad shape."
Lorry helped Waco to mount. They rode toward Stacey.
Waring rode with them until the trail forked. "I was on my way to the
Starr Ranch," he told Lorry. "I think I can make it all right with
Starr, if you say the word."