"Leggo, Dorn!" he yelled. "You're cheatin' the gallows!…Hey, Bill, he's a bull!… Help, hyar—quick!"
Lenore did not see the resulting conflict, but she could tell by something that swayed the crowd when Glidden had been freed.
"Hold up this outfit!" yelled Anderson to his men. "Come on, Jake, drag him along." Jake appeared, leading the disheveled and wild-eyed Dorn. "Son, you did my heart good, but there was some around here who didn't want you to spill blood. An' that's well. For I am seein' red.…Jake, you take Dorn an' Lenore a piece toward the house, then hurry back."
Then Lenore felt that she had hold of Dorn's arm and she was listening to Jake without understanding a word he said, while she did hear her father's yell of command, "Line up there, you I.W.W.'s!"
Jake walked so swiftly that Lenore had to run to keep up. Dorn stumbled. He spoke incoherently. He tried to stop. At this Lenore clasped his arm and cried, "Oh, Kurt, come home with me!"
They hurried down the slope. Lenore kept looking back. The crowd appeared bunched now, with little motion. That relieved her. There was no more fighting.
Presently Dorn appeared to go more willingly. He had relaxed. "Let go, Jake," he said. "I'm—all right—now. That arm hurts."
"Wal, you'll excuse me, Dorn, for handlin' you rough.… Mebbe you don't remember punchin' me one when I got between you an' Glidden?"
"Did I?… I couldn't see, Jake," said Dorn. His voice was weak and had a spent ring of passion in it. He did not look at Lenore, but kept his face turned toward the cowboy.
"I reckon this 's fur enough," rejoined Jake, halting and looking back. "No one comin'. An' there'll be hell to pay out there. You go on to the house with Miss Lenore.… Will you?"