Before the appeal to the chivalry of Sour Creek was out of her lips, smoothly and swiftly the hands of Sinclair settled around her elbows. She was lifted lightly into the air and deposited to one side of the doorway.
Her cry rang in the ears of Riley Sinclair. Then her hand flashed up, and the mask was torn from his face.
"I'll remember! Oh, if I have to wait twenty years, I'll remember!"
"Look me over careful, lady. Today's most likely the last time you'll see me," declared Riley, gazing straight into her eyes.
A hand touched his arm. "Stranger, no rough play!"
Riley Sinclair whirled with whiplash suddenness and, chopping the edge of his hand downward, struck away the arm of Larsen, paralyzing the nerves with the same blow.
"Hands off!" said Sinclair.
The girl's clear voice rang again in his ear: "Thank you, Oscar Larsen.
I sure know my friends—and the gentlemen!"
She was pouring oil on the fire. She would have a feud blazing in a moment. With all his heart Riley Sinclair admired her dexterity. He drew the posse back to the work in hand by stepping into the doorway and calling: "Hey, Gaspar!"
7