play. You see the actors moving through their parts and you wonder
what is going to happen next and how it is all going to work out."

"There! They see each other!" Endicott exclaimed. Each horseman
pulled up, hesitated a moment, and rode on. Distance veiled from the
eager onlookers the significant detail of the shifted gun arms. But no
such preclusion obstructed Bat's vision as he lay flattened upon the
rim of the coulee with the barrel of his six-gun resting upon the edge
of a rock, and its sights lined low upon the stranger's armpit.

"They've dismounted," observed Alice, "I believe Tex is going to
unsaddle."

"Tightening his cinch," ventured Endicott, and was interrupted by a cry
from the lips of the girl.

"Look! The other! He's going to shoot---- Why, they're fighting!"
Fighting they certainly were, and Endicott stared in surprise as he saw
the Texan knocked down and then spring to his feet and attack his
assailant with a vigour that rendered impossible any further attempt to
follow the progress of the combat.

"Why doesn't Bat shoot, or go down there and help him?" cried the girl,
as with clenched fists she strained her eyes in a vain effort to see
who was proving the victor.

"This does not seem to be a shooting affair," Endicott answered, "and
it is my own private opinion that Tex is abundantly able to take care
of himself. Ah--he got him that time! He's down for the count! Good
work, Tex, old man! A good clean knockout!"

The two watched as the men mounted and rode their several ways--the
stranger swinging northward toward the mountains, and the Texan
following along the south face of the butte.

"Some nice little meetings they have out here," grinned Endicott. "I
wonder if the vanquished one was a horse-thief or just an ordinary
friend."

Alice returned the smile: "You used to rather go in for boxing in
college, didn't you?"

"Oh, yes. I can hold my own when it comes to fists----

"And--you can shoot."

The man shook his head: "Do you know that was the first time I ever
fired a pistol in my life. I don't like to think about it. And yet--I
am always thinking about it! I have killed a man--have taken a human
life. I did it without malice--without forethought. All I knew was
that you were in danger, then I saw him fling you from him--the pistol
was in my hand, and I fired."

"You need have no regrets," answered the girl, quickly. "It was his
life or both of ours--worse than