plays a straight game.
It's been a chance to make good for every one of us, and it's thanks to
Fletcher Hill--because he hasn't asked questions--because he's just taken
us on trust--and I'm hanged if he doesn't deserve something better than a
bullet through his brain, even if he is a magistrate and a policeman and
a man of honour. Have you got that, boys? Then chew it over and swallow
it! And when you've done that, I'll tell you something more."

"Oh, let's have it all, boss, now you're at it!" broke in Nixon. "We
shan't have hysterics now. We're past that stage."

Warden turned with a lightning movement and laid his hand upon the girl
beside him. "Gentlemen," he said, "it's Fletcher Hill--and not Buckskin
Bill--who's the boss of this valley. And he's a good boss--he's a
sportsman--he's a maker of men. And this lady is going to be his wife.
You're going to stand by her, boys. You aren't going to make a widow of
her before she's married. You aren't going to let a skunk like Harley
make skunks of you all. You're sportsmen, too--better sportsmen than that
stands for--better sportsmen, maybe, than I am myself. What, boys? It's
your turn to speak now."

"Wait a bit!" said Nixon. "You haven't quite finished yet, boss."

"No, that's true." Warden paused an instant, then abruptly went forward a
pace and stood alone before the crowd. "I've taken a good many chances in
my life," he said. "But now I'm taking the biggest of 'em all. Boys, I'm
a damned impostor. I've tricked you all, and it's up to you to stick me
against a wall and shoot me as I deserve, if you feel that way. For I'm
Buckskin Bill--I'm Fortescue--and I'm several kinds of a fool to think I
could ever carry it through. Now you know!"

With defiant recklessness he flung the words. They were more of a
challenge than a confession. And having spoken them he moved straight
forward with the moonlight on his face till he stood practically among
the rough crowd.

They opened out to receive him, almost as if at a word of command. And
Buckskin Bill, with his head high and his blue eyes flaming, went
straight into them with the gait of a conqueror.

Suddenly, with a passionate gesture, he stopped, flinging up his empty
right hand. "Well, boys, well? What's the verdict? I'm in your hands."

And a great hoarse roar of enthusiasm went up as they closed around him
that was like the bursting asunder of mighty flood-gates. They surged
about him. They lifted him on their shou