l pay his fine, an' settle up with Pete Barras, or we'll plant
him--one."

Alice thrust the flowers into the bosom of her soft shirt and regarded
the man coldly: "If all of you brave gun-fighters are afraid to go in
there and get him, I'll go. I'm not afraid."

Ike Stork warned her: "You better keep out of it, mom. He's lickered up
an' liable to shoot sudden."

"I'm not afraid," repeated the girl.

Hod Blake shrugged: "Go ahead if you want to. Tell him we'll git him,
sure, if he don't give himself up. An' s'pose you git shot, fer yer
trouble, you got any folks to notify?"

Alice glanced at him coldly: "My husband is up at Mr. Cameron's with Mr.
Colston, you might mention it to him, if you think of it," she answered
scornfully. "Get me a light."

Match in one hand, candle in the other, the girl advanced to the front
of the saloon, while the crowd remained at a respectful distance. The
door of the building stood open, but the interior was screened from the
street by a heavy partition of rough planking around which one must pass
to gain access to the bar. At the doorway the girl paused and her figure
leaped sharply into view in the bright flare of the match. The flame
dimmed as she held it to the wick of the candle, then brightened as she
stood with white face and tight-pressed lips, framed in the black
recess of the doorway. For a long time, as tense seconds are measured,
she stood wondering at the sudden silence. She knew that the eyes of the
crowd were upon her as it waited just beyond the circle of her
candlelight--and her shoulders stiffened as she realized that not a man
among them would dare stand where she stood with a lighted candle in her
hand. She felt no fear, now. It seemed the most natural, the most
matter-of-fact thing in the world that she should be standing thus in
the doorway of the Red Front saloon, with a crowd of armed men in the
darkness behind her, and in the darkness before her--what? What if the
man behind that rough plank wall were not Tex--her Tex? What if--? It
seemed suddenly as if icy fingers reached up and clutched her heart. She
felt her knees tremble, and the candle swayed in her hand until it threw
moving shadows on the plank wall. Thoughts of Win crowded her brain.
What would Win think of her? What could he think, if the man behind that
screen were not Tex, and would shoot the second she came into range?
What would everyone think? She was a fool.

"Douse yer light an' crawl back!"