formidable force, but Pete Glass was methodical. In his own heart of
hearts he would have given his hope of heaven to meet Barry face to face
and hand to hand, and see which was the better man, but Pete Glass owed
a duty to his state before he owed a duty to himself. He stuck by his
first plan. And every day the inhabitants of Rickett gathered at the
shooting gallery to watch the tests and wonder at the successes and
smile at the failures.

It was a very hard test which the sheriff had imposed. A man stood to
one side of the iron-plate back wall which served as the target. He
stood entirely out of sight and through an aperture in the side wall,
at a signal, he tossed a round ball of clay, painted white. The marksman
stood a good ten paces off, and he must strike that clay ball as it
passed across the target. The balls were so small that even to strike
them when they were stationary was a difficult task, and to hit them in
motion was enough to task the quickest eye and the cunningest hand.

It was old Pop Giersberg who stood with his ancient forty-five behind
the counter, with his feet braced, on this bright morning, and behind
him half of Rickett was gathered.

"D'you give me warnin', son?" he inquired of the man at the counter.

"Nary a warnin'," grinned the other, who was one of the chosen fifteen.

He wished Pop well. So did they all, but they had seen every man fail
for two days at that target and one and all they had their doubts. Pop
had been a formidable man in his day, but now his hand was stiff and his
hair gray. He was at least twenty years older than he felt.

He had hardly finished asking his question when a white ball was tossed
across the target. Up came the gun of Pop Giersberg, exploded, and the
bullet clanged on the iron; the white ball floated idly on across the
wall and disappeared on the other side.

"Gimme another chance!" pleaded Pop, with a quaver in his voice. "That
was just a try to get my eye in shape."

"Sure," chuckled the deputy. "Everybody gets three tries. It ain't
hardly nacheral to hit that ball the first crack. Leastways, nobody
ain't done it yet. You jest keep your eye peeled, Pop, and that ball
will come out ag'in."

And Pop literally kept his eye peeled.

He had double reason to pray for success, for his "old woman" had smiled
and shook her head when he allowed that he would try out for a place on
that posse. All his nerves grew taut and keen. He waited.

Once more the