he man
holding the rope a sweeping side blow that toppled him over like a
sprawling dummy, jerked the coil from his hands, and tore toward his
horses' heads. As if each feared to bar his advance, the men of the
mob made way for him, taken by surprise. He brought the coil of rope
with a stinging, whistling impact into the face of the nearest man,
who, blinded, threw his hands upward across his eyes and reeled back.
The man at the other horse's head suddenly turned and dove out of
reach, but the whistling coils again fell, lashing him across his head
and shoulders.

Without any appearance of haste, and as if scornful of the mob that
had so recently been threatening to hang him, the man walked back to
his buckboard, climbed in, and stood there on his feet with the reins
in one hand, and the rope in the other. "You get away from in front of
me there," he said, in his harsh, incisive voice; "I'm tired of
child's play. If you don't let me alone, I'll kill a few of you. Now,
clear out!"

The men around him were already backing farther away, and at this
threat they opened the road in such haste that one or two of them
nearly ran over others.

"Say," admiringly commented the big observer on the rock, "we'd play
hob helpin' him out. He don't need help, that feller don't. If I ever
saw a man that could take care of himself----"

"He certainly is the one!" his companion finished the sentence.

"Who does this rope belong to?" demanded the hard-faced victor in the
buckboard, looking around him.

No one appeared eager to claim proprietorship. He gave a loud,
contemptuous snort, and threw the rope far over toward the road
house.

"Keep it!" he called, in his cold, unemotional voice. "Some of you
might want to cheat the sheriff by hanging yourselves. After this, any
or all of you had better keep away from me. I might lose my temper."

He sat down in the seat with a deliberate effort to show his scorn,
picked the reins up more firmly, glanced around at the rear of his
buckboard to see that his parcels were safe, ignored the cowed men,
and without ever looking at them started his horses forward. As they
began a steady trot and passed the partners, he swept over them one
keen, searching look, as if wondering whether they had been of the
mob, turned back to observe their loaded burros, apparently decided
they had taken no part in the affair, and bestowed on them a faint,
dry smile as he settled himself into his seat. At the bend