It was the muted footsteps, then, coming across the Brussels carpet in the outer room. Crawford had allowed Rockland to drop back when Ed Kenmare's bulk filled the doorway. A vague pain moved over the sheriff's heavy weathered features.
"The manager heard a ruckus up here," he said. "I guess he was right. No, Glenn—"
"Yes, Ed," said Glenn, violently, scooping up his Henry and whirling back toward the man. Kenmare had his own six-shooter only half out of its holster. He stopped that way, staring at the .44. There were other men behind the sheriff now, several of the cowmen from the patio and lobby, the hotel manager in a white morning coat.
"I guess there's no use denying it, is there?" said Crawford, through his teeth.
Kenmare let his eyes drop to the Henry's wooden butt. Crawford felt it then, sticky against his fingers, and realized the wood must have been lying in the blood from Rockland's head. A nausea swept him.
"Ed," he said, unable to keep from it, "I didn't, I didn't—"
His bitter voice trailed off as he saw resignation in Kenmare's faded eyes. "Listen, son," the man told him. "It won't do you no good this way. Give me that gun now."
"No." The finger lever made a sharp click, cocking, and with his hand holding it down, Crawford started backing toward the window. "Think I'd have a chance? It's all here, isn't it? All right here, cinched up tighter'n a bucking rig. No loose lashings even. Everything to hang me. I'm not going to be taken for that, Ed."
"Glenn," said Kenmare, with that same weighty reluctance, "for once, don't be a hothead. You go off half-cocked like this and bugger your bronc every time. This just won't do you any good—"
"Don't do it, Jason," Crawford shouted, turning his gun toward one of the cattlemen behind Kenmare. Harry Jason stopped trying to shift back of Kenmare where Crawford wouldn't see him draw his gun, and moved his hand carefully away from the wooden butt of the weapon. There was no intelligent reasoning in Crawford now. Only a terrible consciousness of that dead body on the floor, and a blind, animal urge to escape this. He lifted his leg over the iron railing of the balcony onto the ledge outside. There was the first violent movement among the men in the room as he crouched down to drop off the ledge, and he heard someone shout. Then he jumped.