goin' to see
him through. You fellers, some o' you, know the Padre. You know what
he's done right here to help folks when they were starvin'. He even
sold his farm to help. Sold it right out, an' give up twenty years'
work to hand grub to empty bellies. Wal, they want him fer murder.
Him, the best and straightest man I ever knew. I ain't got nothin'
more to say 'cept Beasley's right--the sheriff's comin'. An' when he
comes he'll find the hills hotter than hell fer him, an' I'll have a
hand in makin' 'em that way." He turned abruptly to Beasley, and
pointed at the paper lying on the counter. "You'll do them things for
me, an' I'll get 'em to-morrow."

He turned away, flinging his farewell back over his shoulder as he
reached the door.

"So long, fellers," he cried, and pushed his way out.

The moment he had gone every tongue was let loose. The gamblers cashed
their "chips" at the bar. There was no more play that afternoon.
Excitement ran high, and discussion was at fever heat. To a man those
who knew the Padre, and those who didn't, commended Buck's attitude.
And amongst the older hands of the camp was an ardent desire to take a
hand in resisting the law. Beasley was in agreement with nearly
everybody. He expressed a wonderful fury at the absurdity and
injustice, as he described it, of the charge. And, finally, he
possessed himself of the floor again for the purposes of his own
subtle scheming.

"What did I tell you, fellers?" he cried, when he had obtained a
general hearing. "What did I tell you?" he reiterated in a fine fury.
"I don't like him, but Buck's a man. A straight, bully feller. He's
goin' to do the right thing. He'll stand by that Padre feller while
he's got a breath in his body, an' he'll shoot the sheriff up as sure
as sure. An' why? Because that feller, the Padre, sold his farm to
help us old hands. Because he sold his farm to that 'Jonah' gal, who's
brought all this trouble about. If she hadn't come around Pete an' Ike
would have bin living now. If she hadn't come around the Padre
wouldn't be wanted for a murder he never committed. If she hadn't come
around Buck wouldn't have set himself up agin the law, an' found
himself chasin' the country over--an outlaw. D'yer see it? You're
blind if you don't." He brought his clenched fist down on the counter
in a whirlwind of indignation. "She's got to go," he cried. "I tell
you, she's got to go. Chase her out. Burn her out. Get rid of her from
here. An' I got