man's wife."

"No, sir. That fake marriage with Dillon don't go. She was promised to
me." He broke out suddenly in anger: "What's eatin' you all? Why don't
you go out an' help me find the girl? These whatfors an' whyfors can
wait, I reckon."

Blister dropped a bomb. "She's found."

"Found!" Houck stared at the fat man. "Who found her? Where? When?"

"Coupla hours ago. Here in this r-room. Kinda funny how she'd swim the
river a night like this an' walk eight-ten miles barefoot in the snow,
all to get away from you, an' her goin' with you of her own accord."

"It wasn't eight miles--more like six."

"Call it six, then. Fact is, Mr. Houck, she was mighty scared of you--in
a panic of terror, I'd say."

"She had no call to be," the Brown's Park settler replied, his voice
heavy with repressed rage. "I'm tellin' you she wasn't right in her
head."

"An' you was takin' advantage of that to make this li'l' girl yore--to
ruin her life for her," Hollister flung back.

In all his wild and turbulent lifetime Jake Houck had never before been
brought to task like this. He resented the words, the manner, the quiet
insistence of these range men. An unease that was not quite fear, but was
very close to it, had made him hold his temper in leash. Now the savage
in him broke through.

"You're a bunch of fool meddlers, an' I'm through explainin'. You can go
to hell 'n' back for me," he cried, and followed with a string of
crackling oaths.

The eyes of the punchers and cattlemen met one another. No word was
spoken, but the same message passed back and forth a score of times.

"I expect you don't quite understand where you're at, Mr. Houck," Larson
said evenly. "This is mighty serious business for you. We aim to give you
a chance to tell yore story complete before we take action."

"Action?" repeated Houck, startled.

"You're up against it for fair," Reeves told him. "If you figure on
gettin' away with a thing like that in a white man's country you've sure
got another guess comin'. I don't know where you're from or who you are,
but I know where you're going."

"D-don't push on the reins, Tom," the justice said. "We aim to be
reasonable about this, I reckon."

"Sure we do." Dud countered with one of Blister's own homely apothegms.
"What's the use of chewin' tobacco if you spit out the juice? Go through,
I say. There's a cottonwood back of the kitchen."

"You're fixin' for to hang me?" Houck asked, his throat and palate gone