im.
Finally that side of him, the retreating self, the weaker, found a
voice.

"Captain, you want this job to be sure?" he asked.

"Certainly."

"I've told you the way. I alone know the kind of men to be met. Just
WHAT I'll do or WHERE I'll be I can't say yet. In meetings like this the
moment decides. But I'll be there!"

MacNelly spread wide his hands, looked helplessly at his curious and
sympathetic rangers, and shook his head.

"Now you've done your work--laid the trap--is this strange move of yours
going to be fair to Miss Longstreth?" asked MacNelly, in significant low
voice.

Like a great tree chopped at the roots Duane vibrated to that. He looked
up as if he had seen a ghost.

Mercilessly the ranger captain went on: "You can win her, Duane! Oh, you
can't fool me. I was wise in a minute. Fight with us from cover--then go
back to her. You will have served the Texas Rangers as no other man has.
I'll accept your resignation. You'll be free, honored, happy. That girl
loves you! I saw it in her eyes. She's--"

But Duane cut him short with a fierce gesture. He lunged up to his feet,
and the rangers fell back. Dark, silent, grim as he had been, still
there was a transformation singularly more sinister, stranger.

"Enough. I'm done," he said, somberly. "I've planned. Do we agree--or
shall I meet Poggin and his gang alone?"

MacNelly cursed and again threw up his hands, this time in baffled
chagrin. There was deep regret in his dark eyes as they rested upon
Duane.

Duane was left alone.

Never had his mind been so quick, so clear, so wonderful in its
understanding of what had heretofore been intricate and elusive impulses
of his strange nature. His determination was to meet Poggin; meet him
before any one else had a chance--Poggin first--and then the others!
He was as unalterable in that decision as if on the instant of its
acceptance he had become stone.

Why? Then came realization. He was not a ranger now. He cared nothing
for the state. He had no thought of freeing the community of a dangerous
outlaw, of ridding the country of an obstacle to its progress and
prosperity. He wanted to kill Poggin. It was significant now that
he forgot the other outlaws. He was the gunman, the gun-thrower, the
gun-fighter, passionate and terrible. His father's blood, that dark and
fierce strain, his mother's spirit, that strong and unquenchable spirit
of the surviving pioneer--these had been in him; and the killings, one